Let's Go to the Movies
by xSimpleSoul
Summary: Jesse's a dreamer and Beca's a realist, but somehow they work perfectly. {A collection of Jesse x Beca drabbles and one-shots. M chapters marked}
1. jesse swanson: dreamer

"Anonymous said:

Jesse dreaming of himself and Beca in several movie situations. Star Wars, Avengers, Titanic, Princess Bride, whatever movie that's pop/geek culture famous. Go crazy!"

* * *

 **jesse swanson: dreamer**

Sure, he'll admit that he's had one too many dreams of Beca in the Slave Leia bikini.

They're in her room, watching the scene unfold in front of them, when he confesses this out loud to her.

All she does is give him a pointed stare. Her eyebrow is raised, and Jesse knows she's about to let out some sarcastic, smart-ass quip. "Whoa, whoa. If I'm gonna be anyone from _Star Wars_ , I'm gonna be Han Solo. Because if anyone's gonna be Han Solo here, it's gonna be _me_."

He's dumbfounded, really. He's mostly impressed, but slightly offended. "Leia's pretty great, too."

"I know that. I just like Harrison Ford a lot, plus I'd say Solo and I have some striking similarities." She says matter-of-factly, averting her eyes back to the movie.

"Oh? Like what?" he challenges, pressing the space bar to pause the film.

She tries not to laugh at the way he's so intrigued at this discovery. "We are both pretty hot."

He grins. "I'm not disagreeing with that, but Carrie Fisher is equally as hot as Harrison, but not quite as hot as you." She snorts at this, but let's him go on. "I can name a few things the two of you have in common."

"Alright, let's hear them."

"You're both tiny, both headstrong. Both have that feisty thing going on. Had that whole 'I'm gonna act like I don't like you but I'm actually in love with you' endeavor…"

She gives him a glare. "You are so full of yourself!"

"I'm not done. You have brown hair. You're defiant, and witty. When you punched that tone hanger in the face, I freaked out like Han did when Leia got shot. Your dad made the same wheezing noise that Darth Vader makes when he heard us having sex that one time."

"Jesse!"

"The point is, you'd be a cool Han Solo, but you're Princess Leia Organa Solo, and I'm Han. We're gonna have three kids and a furry companion, except ours are gonna be better because they're gonna be a ca children."

It was weird hearing him say that last bit out loud, but she brushes it off. "You've thought long and hard about this, haven't you?"

He nods.

She studies him suspiciously, observing his earnest expression with a grain of salt. "What else have you been dreaming up?"

His once easy demeanor falters under this question. He lets out a nervous chuckle. "How about you, saying, 'I'll never let go, Jesse!', as you actually let go. Throw in a bit of a good eye roll and you'd make the perfect Rose."

"I'm not too sure I'd try to kill myself by jumping off a boat. I'd want to get my money's worth, you know?"

"That's kind of morbid."

"All I'm saying is that I'm a little more logical than Rose."

"Imagine if Billy Zane was, let's say, Luke. I mean, I'd want to kill myself if I had to marry someone like that."

"Luke has amazing abs, I wouldn't mind."

He scowls, to which she responds with a simple shrug of the shoulders. "Alright, alright. Let's focus on the actual love story, here-"

"They meet. Jack, in this case, you, dies because Rose, in this case, me, can't share the raft, even though it can _clearly_ accommodate two people. Next movie."

"Okay, this one's kind of embarrassing, but how about Danny and Sandy?"

" _Grease_? We're in an a cappella group. Movie musicals would be my last drop of dignity," she deadpans, much to Jesse's disdain.

"It'd mostly just be me being super cool and badass while you'd be the saint turned bad girl."

"Really? Because I know for a fact that you'd be the one singing 'Hopelessly Devoted to You.'"

"I'm impressed you even know that song."

"Amy sings it whenever the pizza guy delivers our food."

He raises an eyebrow, to which she replies with a cool shrug. "Seems appropriate."

"Maybe Fat Amy should be Sandy, I'll be Rizzo. After all, Amy _is_ Australian."

"You're kind of crushing my dreams, here, Bec."

"Sorry. Tell me another." As weird as they were, Beca actually liked listening to his weird, borderline creepy, dreams. They're a good source of entertainment.

He strokes his chin in thought, his eyes lighting up with another idea. He begins snapping rhythmically, and a knowing grin spreads across his face.

Her blank face is the only thing that wipes the fun from his.

"C'mon, work with me a little! Sharks versus Jets, Tony and Maria!"

"Hmm?"

" _West Side Story_."

She gives him her signature smirk. "Right, right."

"With the whole Trebles versus Bellas thing, we're practically forbidden."

"That was according to Aubrey."

 _"Beca! I just met a girl named Beca! And suddenly that name will never be the same to me!"_ He sings, pulling her closer to his chest to stifle her groans. He kisses her cheek with a loud smack as they continue to wrestle on her bed, her groans of detest turning into laughter.

 _"Beca! I just kissed a girl named Beca!"_

"God, you're insufferable."

 _"And suddenly I found how wonderful a sound could be!"_ His off-pitch crooning makes her laugh even more.

"Just shut up already!"

She squirms under his weight and sighs when he presses his lips against her neck. She let's out a low moan as he continues to kiss her skin, her hands knotted in his hair.

"As you wish."

* * *

A/N-

Movies mentioned: Star Wars, Titanic, Grease, West Side Story, and a hint of Princess Bride.

Songs mentioned: "Hopelessly Devoted to You", and "Maria" replaced with Beca's name.

Submit prompts at becasjesse on Tumblr.


	2. don't fight the feeling

"Anonymous asked: Becs watching "the biggest cinematic reveal in history" as Jesse puts it."

* * *

Warning: Contains Star Wars spoilers/references. Might need a little familiarity with the original trilogy, but nothing too foreign. Enjoy!

* * *

 **don't fight the feeling (if you're feeling the force within)**

 _Star Wars_ Celebration. The bane of Beca's existence.

It takes her a long time to agree to this.

It takes her a _really_ long time.

Like, _three years_ long.

"I promise you, babe, you won't regret this."

Jesse's been sweetening her up for weeks, now. She kinda wants to punch him in the face.

Out of all the movies he makes her watch, she draws the line at _Star Wars_. There was just no way, and it didn't matter how much, how loudly, or how annoyingly, he begged.

It was absolutely _not_ going to happen.

That was what she thought, anyways.

* * *

It was brought to her attention three months ago.

Jesse, in his usual fashion, clumsily scrambles up the stairs to Beca and Amy's room, doesn't care to check if her Australian roomie is there, and rolls her away from her desk and in front of her bed. She's left staring at him, headphones wrapped around her neck, with a grimace on her face.

"You know I hate it when you do that."

"I know, I'm sorry," he pauses to give her a quick peck on the lips, "but this is urgent."

She eyes him curiously. "What happened?"

"Bec, what I am about to ask you... It's important," his puppy eyes are in full effect as he pulls her from out of her desk chair and onto his lap, taking her legs and wrapping them around his waist.

She should feel some sort of panic arise from out of her chest, but she knows him too well to know that it wasn't actually anything urgent. That is, anything actually important. Not with those eyes.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

Nonetheless, she allows herself to indulge in his embrace and leans into his arms, which were encircled around her back.

"Benji invited me to go with him to Anaheim for spring break."

"And this involves me how?"

"I want you to come with me."

"And how is this super important?"

He gives her an innocent smile, and now she knows he's up to something that she most definitely will not like.

"Jesse..."

He doesn't say anything. The nerd just continues to give her that "I love you so much so _please_ don't kill me" look.

"Just spit it out, dude."

The words come out in a rush. "We want to go to _Star Wars_ Celebration. And the tickets are selling out kinda fast so if you could give me an answer soon, that'd be great."

"I love you and all, but there are a lot of things in this world that I don't need and a convention filled with a bunch of _Star Wars_ dweebs is one of them. Why do you need me to come along?"

"Benji's taking Emily and I thought this would be a great bonding experience for all of us."

Of course Legacy would be just as nerdy about _Star Wars_ as Benji. They're two peas in a pod, it's getting a bit ridiculous now.

"I'm sure you three will have fun. Besides, I have the internship and I'm busy with Bellas stuff. I can't just leave," she shrugs, removing herself from his grasp to lay in her bed. He sits criss-cross next to her.

He pouts, which, in theory, should be as ridiculous as it looks, but Beca has a weakness for those lips, and... God dammit.

"You give the girls spring break off every year. And I'm sure your boss will let you off for a week, paid leave is a thing."

"Even if I do agree... Why? You know I haven't watched any of the movies."

"It's L.A! It's your dream city. We can get to know the city, the beaches, the theme parks..."

She lays there, silent, as he absentmindedly plays with the ends of her hair. It was true. Now that she's proved herself to her boss, she's sure he'd do anything to help get her name out there. Plus, there's no doubt her boss would have connections in one of the biggest music powerhouses of the country.

Maybe L.A. isn't such an awful idea. She needs a vacation after all the stupid drama she's been through, Muffgate and all.

But, ugh, _Star Wars_... No thank you.

* * *

Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly), Benji's the one who convinces Beca to come.

It's the sincerity in his voice when he talks about Legacy. The excitement is there, but with it is the nervousness.

"We're not official... But I promised to take her after she told me that she loved _Star Wars_ too and this could be really good for us. I just don't want it to be awkward with Jesse being there, but then I don't want it to be awkward for me and Em. I really like her and I really want it to work, Beca," he sighs.

Beca nods sympathetically. She can't help but feel for the guy. She adores Benji and his quirks.

She doesn't want to break his spirits by mentioning the fact that Emily confessed that she wasn't that into _Star Wars._

* * *

Thus, the creation of why _Star Wars_ Celebration is the bane of Beca's existence.

Not that _Star Wars_ Celebration was ever gonna be enough for Jesse, and Beca knew that.

He slips her sticky notes at first.

She opens her counterpoint class textbook one day to find a bright green sticky, with "May the Force be with you" scratched in his handwriting.

She finds one a few days later, "Leia Organa & Han Solo 4ever" stuck to the glass of the picture of her and Jesse on her nightstand.

When she asks him to buy her a bottle of shampoo, it appears in her shower with a note that says, "So your hair doesn't go all Chewbacca."

She finds a dozen more around the Bellas house. They're all, she assumes, quotes from the films or stupid comments relating to it. She should be pissed, but she finds them strangely endearing.

"I don't understand any of these," she deadpans when she finally confronts him.

He replies with a smug smirk. "Yeah, I figured."

"I'm still not watching it," she hums, turning her cheek as she stalks away from him on the quad.

"Aw, Bec! You have to be at least a little bit curious!" He yells to her turned back. "You're going to SWC, you need to know!"

She gives him an over the shoulder glare before sprinting her way to Bellas practice.

* * *

Just as she let's her guard down, it gets worse.

He starts quoting lines _out loud._

He slips "You don't know the power of the dark side" into her ear right before they begin an impromptu riff-off.

The Trebles lose to the Bellas' rendition of Icona Pop's "I Don't Care" after a heated leader sing-off with Jesse and Beca going for blood.

Serves them right.

/

When they're eating dinner at a restaurant and he can't seem to decide between the sweet and sour pork or the almond chicken, he hands the decision to her with a, "Help me, Beca-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope," which, to no surprise, only earns an eye roll and a loaded sigh.

/

She nearly screams when he pulls a quote out of his ass at the most inappropriate of times.

"The Force is strong with this one."

She sits up from her spot on the bed, glaring daggers into his eyes. "Oh my _God_. I'm never having sex with you again. Like, ever."

"But that was a compliment! You wouldn't know because you hate George Lucas and his brilliant franchise."

The room is dark, but she can see the smugness on his face. It drives her nuts, and she knows he won't take no for an answer. It's time to end this once and for all.

She sighs. "If I watch the movies, will you finally shut up?"

"Really? You'll do it?!"

"If you shut up."

"Deal!"

She knows that's a fat chance, but she really has had enough with her nerd's incessant quotes.

His persistence is enamoring, she'll give him that.

* * *

Which brings us back to the first weekend of April.

"I promise you, babe, you won't regret this."

There's two weeks to _Star Wars_ nerdom, and Jesse has a whole franchise to introduce her to.

She officially hates herself.

She hates how she loves him too much to keep up her stubborn front.

His face annoys her. Especially that thing he does with his eyes. Ugh. She hates that.

And then there are his fun facts. Beca concludes that he and Benji could churn out a _Star Wars_ love baby easily. She hates that.

There's also Han Solo. She hates him, too, because his arrogant ass is pretty goddamn sexy. And Princess Leia? Equally as sexy.

(Wait. What?)

The thing she hates the most? That she actually finds herself _enjoying_ it.

She finds that she doesn't hate C-3PO. She actually relates to the prissy, gold robot. He and R2-D2 can stay.

Of course she resists at first. She makes snide comments at the space junk and graphics of it all. But when Luke, Leia, Chewbacca, and Han almost die in a garbage compactor, Beca finds herself shrinking into Jesse's side in anticipation for the worst. Jesse, however, watches in complete repose, which comforts her in a way, even though all she wants to do is yell at the stupid gold droid and his stupid beeping companion to hurry up and _shut down all the garbage mashers on the detention level!_

So when _A New Hope_ ends and they're onto _The Empire Strikes Back_ , she's feeling at ease. Excited, even.

* * *

"Honestly, when did they become a thing?" she asks, gesturing to Han and Leia's stubborn glares, a telltale sign that they were completely and utterly in love.

"Since the universe said so," he replies, nonchalant as ever as she bites her tongue to keep from laughing out loud.

/

"That did—That did not just happen?" She actually _gasps_ when C-3PO's beaten into a pile of broken robot parts. Beca Mitchell does not gasp.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, Bec."

/

"They're not actually gonna do that, right?"

Silence.

"They're not allowed to freeze Han Solo in carbonite!"

"Shh."

"Jesse."

 _"I love you."_

 _"I know."_

Beca's visibly upset by this. It shows in the way her eyes were unblinkingly staring at the laptop screen in disbelief, forehead scrunched.

"Bec, are you okay? You look a little shell-shocked," Jesse comments on Beca's (not-so) subtle reaction, eyebrows raised in concern. "I wasn't kidding when I said 'Han and Leia forever.'"

She rolls her eyes. "Not okay, Jesse."

That's when he sighs, presses a kiss to her cheek to comfort her, and spews out meaningless facts about Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher.

/

"Yoda's a little shit!"

"Don't be mean!"

/

 _"Luke, I am your father."_

Beca's not sure if she actually expected this.

Out of the however-many _Star Wars_ Episodes, she really didn't think it'd come this early.

"Wow, great timing, O Dark One," she retorts, watching as Luke Skywalker falls heroically into a hole of darkness.

"Is that all you have to say?" Jesse asks, mouth gaped open in disbelief.

"What am I supposed to say?"

"That was the biggest cinematic reveal of all time and your heart isn't racing?"

"It caught me off-guard, sure. Not all that surprising. Cool fight sequence, though."

* * *

They finish the original trilogy at three in the morning. When the credits stop rolling, Jesse turns to a sleepy Beca with smug smirk fully formed on his face.

"You loved it."

She grumbles at his sheer ability to both drive her nuts and make her grin until her cheeks hurt. She snuggles in closer, resting her head onto his chest.

"Whoa, hold on a sec. You actually loved it?"

Again, she grumbles gibberish and puts a hand to his mouth, hoping to shut him up.

"Oh man! _Star Wars_ Celebration is gonna be amazing! We can cosplay as Han and Leia, oh and Benji can be Luke... Crap, what about Emily? Could you convince her to dress up as Yoda maybe? Wait, she's super tall, maybe Chewbacca would be a better fit? Or maybe—"

Beca rises from her spot on Jesse's chest to kiss him hard on the mouth, ending his rambling once and for all.

"I love you, but you're pushing it, nerd."

* * *

Jesse loves pushing her buttons with his persistence. It's maddening. And annoying.

But his happiness is infectious. So is his nerdiness, apparently (is she seriously geeking over _Star Wars?_ ).

Yet somehow, it's his chase—to get her to laugh, to smile, to feel— that makes the little annoyances all worth it.

She's drawn to him. She'll fight it and refuse with all her might, but she'll allow him in.

It's not a game, but in the end, they both win.

* * *

Submit prompts at becasjesse on Tumblr.


	3. everything's the same

"Anonymous asked: Beca and Jesse are out of college and off to different coasts and Jesse suddenly decides to fly out to LA just to see Beca"

* * *

 **everything's the same (when the rain comes down)**

To put it bluntly, life is boring.

Not that life is _actually_ boring. He's doing amazing things at his job in New York, being on track to become the youngest Academy Award winning score composer. He has about seven years to beat Marvin Hamlisch, which was more than enough time for Jesse Swanson to achieve his dreams.

That part of his life wasn't boring at all.

However, ever since Beca moved out to Los Angeles, things have been _boring_.

He leaves for work at six in the morning and gets off at three in the afternoon, then immediately goes to his shift at the bakery shop across his tiny apartment. He comes home around nine, or six in LA. By then, he's exhausted, but he tries not to show it when he's talking to his girlfriend.

They video chat often, text all the time, and even send the occasional snapchat every one in a while. He loves seeing her face, but he hates how he can't touch it, or kiss it, with the screen in the way and all.

* * *

Their last video chat session went a little something like this:

"My life is boring.

"That's not true."

"It's boring."

"I'm sorry the real world doesn't appreciate a good burst of spontaneous singing in public like I do. I hear strangers hate that."

"That was for a social experiment in Intro to Sociology!"

"Remember when that guy asked for your number when you sang "Drops of Jupiter"? Poor dude looked super flustered while picking out bell peppers."

"Nope, don't remember that. Not at all. You know why? Because I never sing spontaneously. That class was a joke and doesn't count."

 _"Lay your weary head to rest! Don't you cry no more, oh!"_

That's when she pulls out her air guitar and mimics the first time they met. He can't even pretend to feign annoyance because she's too busy being adorably-badass for him to care about having just eaten his words. Instead, he laughs and sings along.

These moments were definitely _not_ boring.

* * *

They're watching T _he Parent Trap_ together through video chat when he gets inspired.

The minute they say "goodnight," Jesse's looking at flight numbers to LA for that weekend. Then, he's pulling out his suitcase to fill up for a visit to the Golden State. The next, he's on a plane and in the city of angels.

It's his first time there, but he knows exactly where Beca's dinky little apartment is at because of all the packages they send to each other. He recognizes it when he sees the scary stray guard cat that frequents her snapchat story.

It's two in the afternoon and he knows she's at work, so he sits against her door for about an hour until he falls asleep with the scary guard cat (whose name, he learns, is Pippin) balancing perfectly atop his folded knees.

Pippin is the thing that wakes him up. It's the cat's sudden scowl and unsheathed claws piercing into his knees that jolts him awake about two hours later. When he opens his eyes, he finds Beca staring at him, keys hanging loosely from her fingers. Her jaw is open slightly ajar, and her blue eyes were sparkling with tears.

"Jesse?"

Just like that, he's up on his feet and holding her close to him, all traces of his initial grogginess gone.

He's kissing the top of her head while she's clinging onto his chest. He's laughing and her body is shaking in disbelief.

And holy shit, it feels _so good_ having her in his arms again.

* * *

The apartment is hers, but it screams _them_.

There's her calendar, marked with a big red circle for November the fourth, the day before her birthday, that says, 'PICK JESSE UP LAX 5 PM.'

She has a short shelf in her entertainment system dedicated to her absolute favorite movies, mostly gifts from Jesse. Her collection was small, but it was slowly growing thanks to him.

Her (well, his) Treble hoodie on her bed.

The _Jaws_ snow globe he bought her their junior year placed on her night stand. The flecks of plastic, sparkly human flesh floated around helplessly in the water, both hilarious and a "must-buy," in his opinion.

The candle from their picnic during Freshman year, its wick still white from its complete lack of use.

The American flag he waved around at Worlds slung over her La-Z Boy recliner.

His old-fashioned, handwritten letters littered everywhere around corners and nooks and crannies.

The decorative ghost that he sent her to get into the "Halloween spirit" hanging outside her doorway.

A stash of juice pouches in her fridge.

Their pictures taped to the wall, stuck to the refrigerator, crooked in rusty copper frames.

* * *

She takes him to a little food truck that sells Italian, Mexican, and Vietnamese food for dinner.

"I like the combination; keeps me feeling well-traveled. Cultured, even."

He snickers at that, scanning the menu until settles on a bowl of pho to go, while she orders herself a gyro.

"Do they know that gyros are Greek?" He whispers to her when they turn away, eyes flicking to anyone who might be in hearing distance.

She shrugs. "They're good, and that's all I care about."

"It's sort of worrisome, don't you think? What if I end up with poutine instead of pho?"

She pinches his bicep, his immediate reaction is to yelp and rub the spot soothingly. "You're such a nerd."

"Fine, I surrender. You win, geographically-confused food truck. You win!" He groans, hands admitting defeat as he slurps down the flavorful noodles. "I'll never doubt you again."

"See, this is why you trust me with these things. I'm always right."

"Okay, Miss I'm-Always-Right. What are your plans for this weekend?"

"Well, now that you're here, I get to play tourist with you. My boss let me have the next three days off, I can't wait to show you the recording studio, Jess. It's a little ways off of Universal, but I think we can squeeze it into our schedule."

She's excited to show him Los Angeles, her turf. He can tell she loves her city by the way she rambles on and on about every little thing with bright eyes and dimpled cheeks.

He loves her excitement; it's infectious. But there's one thing pulling at his thoughts, one thing that he's missed the most about them being _together_ together.

"Alright, what's going on?" She finally confronts him after their food is finished cooking and they're on the short walk back to her apartment. Her elbows folded neatly as she challenges him with her eyes. There's a sliver of nervousness hiding under her front, and Jesse can't help but feel bad that he made whatever excitement that was there, vanish.

He offers her a sincere smile. "Nothing. I just love you, you know that?"

The look on her face softens a little, but she's not about to give up that easily. "I know that. But it's been four years, and I also happen to know when something is bugging you."

"So you definitely know that I love you?"

She nods, her eyes rolling into the back of her head at the repetition.

"It's just that— Okay, I love that you're super excited to show me around, but—"

"—But? You told me your life has been boring and now you're telling me that it's too much? What has New York done to you, you're an old man now!" She accuses lightly, holding her arms over her chest.

"What?! All I'm saying is that we should slow things down, with the scheduling and tour groups and landmarks and all."

He can't get over how scrunched her little face is. It's cute, seeing her go from challenging to pushy to defeat. His arm around her small frame pulls her closer so that she was slightly lopsided when they walked along the sidewalk.

"I just want to spend time with you."

"But you are—"

"Just you. No tourists, no screaming children, no fanny packs. Just _you,"_ he gently squeezes her shoulder and pokes her nose with his other hand, stifling a laugh when she scrunches it in mock disgust.

"For the record, fanny packs are totally in style," she grumbles, surrendering her facade. "I just really wanted to make things _not_ boring for you, I thought you'd love it if we visited all the movie sets and the Walk of Fame and Madame Toussaud's Wax Figures," she sighs.

"And I love that! I do, I really do. But, save it for your birthday week. Print out a list of things to do in Los Angeles and the surrounding area off of Google, and we'll do all of that then. We'll be the most obnoxious, stereotypical tourists that LA has ever seen," Jesse doesn't miss the way her face lights up at the suggestion (even with the added eye roll), and it makes his heart swell pathetically in his chest. "But now? I want to go home and watch a movie with you, with your feet in my lap as you try to distract yourself from not watching the film by catching popcorn kernels in your mouth and spitting them into my direction just to annoy me. Because I missed you, and watching movies through a Skype screen isn't the same without your nasty, saliva-lathered popcorn kernels hitting my cheek."

She laughs and uncrosses her arms to pat his cheek affectionately before pressing her lips to it. "Okay."

"And you're not mad?"

"No, just taken aback," she hums into his side, "doesn't seem very 'you'. The boring thing, I mean."

"I brought my swim trunks, so I'm not _that_ boring. This New Yorker needs to get his tan on."

She looks up at his cheeky grin, and sure enough, it's transferred onto her own face.

"Good luck, because it's supposed to rain this weekend," she warns, the smile still tugging at her cheeks. It doesn't really help with trying to convey the 'direness' of the situation.

"Rain? In Los Angeles? Impossible."

"Extremely likely, actually."

"Well we better hurry up, then. I want to put those trunks into good use."

"Please don't tell me it's the one with lightsabers on it."

* * *

Because of the predicted forecast, the beach behind Beca's apartment is mostly empty, except for a few late joggers and their dogs. Beca tries again and again to convince him to not leave her apartment with just sandals and his swim trunks. It's nighttime, and it's cold, so she opts for his Treble hoodie and gym shorts. He pretends the temperature dip from day to night is no big deal, but she catches him shivering when he's not looking.

"It's _freezing_! I told you to bring a jacket!"

He shakes his head. "Nope. Nope. The water is just fine, just fine!" He dips a toe into the ocean water, grinning confidently at his amused girlfriend. He splashes the water onto his chest and yowls at the cold sting. "The temperature is perfectly fine, come on in, Beca!"

"Yeah," she bites the inside of her cheek and swallows her laughter when Jesse tiptoes around in the tide, yelping as the water sprays his legs, "I don't think so."

His lower lip juts out in a pout, but Beca won't fall for it. She continuously shakes her head, while his gestures grow increasingly more exaggerated. He frantically waves his hands above his head and jumps in the water, though it looks ridiculous considering that he's only knee-deep in the water. His hands are clasped together, pleading to her, reaching for Beca as she stands her ground.

"Nope. Not budging."

"Fine. If you won't move, I will," he threatens, waggling his eyebrows playfully at his girlfriend. He runs out of the water and towards the petite brunette, who had gotten the hint and was running away from him. She tries to keep her stoic expression, but she can't help but laugh as he hobbles up to her and envelops her in a wet embrace.

She's squirming under his grasp, and the water is cold against her skin and dampens her hoodie, but she really doesn't care.

They end up on the sand somehow, with his body hovering over hers. The hoodie has vanished from her frame, leaving her in only a bra and the gym shorts. She's humming into his hair while he's busy working her body over with gentle kisses. By this time, all the night beachgoers have left, leaving the two alone with sand in the cracks and crevices of their bodies.

"This tanning thing isn't working," he mumbles into the crook of her neck, eyelids shut as he breathes in the smell of beach spray and light coconut on her skin.

She let's out a breathy laugh, her skin coated with a light sheen of sweat. "You're such a weirdo."

He smiles tiredly as he deciphers their most used phrase. "I love you, too."

* * *

She's curled into his side, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around her waist. His right arm tingled, asleep, under her weight, but it didn't matter. The familiarity was comforting.

It's been way too long since she's been sound asleep in his embrace.

She stirs awake eventually, sighing deeply as she turns over to bury her nose into his neck. He rubs her bare back and presses his lips on her forehead, murmuring a quiet "good morning."

"It's raining," she mumbles, her voice heavy with leftover sleep.

Jesse nuzzles her hair, breathing in the smell of the salty sea and a hint of coconut clinging onto her scalp. "I have great timing, huh?" He muses, voice muffled against her silky tresses.

He can feel her smile pressed against his flesh. "Guess we're stuck in my apartment."

He grins and pulls away from her to pin her underneath him in a surprise attack. He peppers kisses on her neck, marking a trail to her breasts.

"Guess we're stuck in your apartment."

* * *

They spend the rest of Saturday lounging around, listening to the rain beat outside her window while they make mac and cheese from scratch. He walks around her place without anything on except a pair of grey boxers like it was normal. They help California's drought problem by showering together. They curl up on the couch watching movies and documentaries on Netflix, spit-covered popcorn kernels scattered around the floor. Pippin mewls and claws at her door, to which Jesse responds by letting the shivering cat in and feeding him a bowl of shredded chicken, leftover from their dinner. Their day is capped off with him whispering sweet nothings into her ear and the occasional sharp intake of her breath, and three rounds of roshambo to determine who was going to apologize to her neighbors in the morning for being too loud.

Sunday's not much different. He finds one of the flannels he brought with him hidden underneath her pillow. He doesn't bring it up. Instead, he wishes it a silent farewell because he knows Beca looks ten times better in it than he ever will.

She can't help singing his favorite song around the apartment, dancing shamelessly to the beat of her own voice in her underwear, while he flips pancakes and lets her do her thing. He watches her, occasionally chipping in his own voice to mesh with hers, with a large grin on his face and his mind getting used to this— an apartment for two, breakfast at ten thirty, and the occasional guard cat meowing at the door.

When the rain finally stops, they venture outside for a walk around Los Angeles. The streets aren't as busy as New York's, so it was a welcome change in Jesse's book.

"You know, I could really get used to this," he says to the girl clinging affectionately to his arm. He feels her squeeze his bicep and smiles down at her momentarily before setting his sights on the crosswalk in front of them.

"Oh?" She says, raising a brow.

"Yeah. I'd never be bored here."

Her next comment surprises him.

"Then move in with me. It's been two days and it's..." she pauses to look at the glint in his eye, trying to find the right words.

He urges her on with a patient nod.

"It feels like home when you're here."

* * *

Exactly two months later, their fridge is filled with juice pouches, their movie shelves are dangerously low on space, and Beca and Jesse are eating gyros and pho on their couch in their pajamas as Pippin, adopted officially as of three weeks ago, purrs in contentment.


	4. i pick my poison

"Anonymous said: Okay so have you ever seen the text post that's like: "she knows what can make him cum, and what can make him cry," because whenever I listen to Addicted to Love by Florence + The Machine I can't get that and Beca/Jesse out of my head and it would be so so so great (hot) if you could do anything with that idk ah thank you!"

"Anonymous said: Either Beca or Jesse getting jealous"

* * *

 **Warning: Smut ahead. Proceed at your own risk ;)**

* * *

 **i pick my poison (and it's you)**

Beca's not a jealous person.

But seeing him with her has her insides getting all riled up and if she could guess the color of her heart right now, it was probably green and wielding a pitchfork.

She knew they'd run into each other eventually, with Beca being one of Fat Amy's bridesmaids and him being one of Bumper's groomsmen. It's been a few years since they've seen each other, and ever since Fat Amy asked her to be in the wedding, she's been drowning in alcohol and an absurd amount of carbs at the thought of seeing him again.

Beca knew he would be at the rehearsal dinner, but she didn't know he would be with _her_.

She's swirling her wine nonchalantly in her glass while Chloe talks animatedly about her own wedding dreams, when suddenly the ginger stops.

"Go on, I'm listening," Beca says absentmindedly. When Chloe doesn't respond, she looks up from her drink to study her best friend. "I didn't say you could stop."

"Beca," Chloe nudges the brunette's leg with her knee, sneaking flittering glances to the entrance of the restaurant. Beca follows her gaze to find Jesse Swanson himself, looking dashing in a cuffed button-down and khakis, with a girl draped around his waist.

Beca's eyes flits back to her drink, hoping he hadn't noticed her staring.

The girl was blonde, leggy, olive-skinned, and, well, she was hot. _They_ were hot.

Maybe Beca shouldn't have eaten all those breadsticks, because she could definitely feel them taunting her in her stomach.

"Are you okay, Beca? You're looking a little green," Chloe frowns, squeezing Beca's knee sympathetically. "How about we go get some air?"

"No, I think I can deal," Beca mutters so only Chloe could hear her. "But thanks, Chlo."

The older girl studies her briefly before going back to her regular chatter, slowly but trying wholeheartedly to distract the brunette.

The first time he notices her, she's had about three glasses of wine and about four breadsticks. She's in the process of downing her fifth when she hears the all-too familiar call of her name.

"Becaw!"

 _Nope._

Both she and Chloe look over their shoulders to see Jesse himself, grinning, with the blonde hanging off his bicep.

She dejectedly invites herself into his open arms, her stomach churning at the familiar scent of his cologne. He lets go after a few moments to hug Chloe, who was giving him a half-smile of her own.

"What's up, weirdo?" It comes out more casual than enthusiastic, which was not really her goal– She needed him to think she was a happy human being, even if she wasn't.

"Oh, you know, living the dream," he grins. "Scoring movies, blowing minds."

His excitement is so genuine that it's making it hard to dislike him at the moment. Her heart jumps at his glowing smile, but it immediately settles when he nudges the blonde forward.

"Ladies, this is Olivia." Olivia gives them a shy smile.

"I'm Chloe, former Bella, ex-nemesis to the Trebles," Chloe beams, shaking Olivia's hand.

Beca gulps, rattling her brain for some sort of title (Thanks, Chloe). She chooses the short and sweet route. "I'm Beca."

Olivia's hands are a bit clammy when she goes to shake it.

"If I remember correctly, you were in the Bellas as well?" Olivia asks politely, not-so-discreetly wiping her palms on her floral sundress.

Beca nods.

"So you and Jesse..."

Beca feels warmth travel up her body, desperately hoping blush would not appear on her already pale skin. "Er, yeah. We dated for a couple years."

"Three and a half, to be exact."

He gives her a warm smile, one that's teasing and playful and so _Jesse_ that she had to look away.

The smile disappears once he sees her reaction and is replaced with a frown.

"So," Jesse clears his throat, drawing out the last syllable. "What have you two been up to lately?"

"I teach kids music and singing here in Georgia, Beca's still at Residual Heat..."

* * *

It was stupid, really, how sick she felt just seeing him with Olivia. He just looked so _happy_ and fine without Beca, which really shouldn't make her sad, because his happiness meant the world to her. It's just that, when they decided to break up two years before, it felt more like a break than a break _up_ , even as they grew distant in their communications.

So here's Beca, wincing every time the taste of her booze ran down her throat. The rest of the wedding party had left hours ago, but she chose to stay to spend some alone time at the bar.

She can't escape her thoughts of him and Olivia, and him, and Olivia. Beca can't even hate the blonde because she's too sweet to not like her. And Jesse? He's Jesse, and Jesse looks damn good in a button down.

It's ridiculous, because she was never this girl. She's lax, she's stubborn.

Of all things, she's not supposed to be jealous.

She doesn't mope around over some guy, she never has.

But, again, he's Jesse, the first and only guy she's ever actually been in love with. She's dated a few guys since their breakup, but none really made her smile the way Jesse did.

When she finally starts to feel a little bit better about herself (and a little bit buzzed), she hears his voice, clear as day, and she knows it's not some sort of a hallucination.

"Beca? Is that you?"

Shit.

Of course this would happen to her. The universe clearly hates her. Of course.

She turns her shoulder to spot him coming towards her, a jacket draped around his arm, with a friendly grin on his face.

She returns the grin, forced until she sees that he's alone. "Hey, weirdo. What are you doing here?"

He lifts his arm to show off the jacket and shrugs. "Left this here. What are _you_ doing here?"

She gestures to her glass of scotch. "Pre-game for tomorrow's wedding-palooza."

He laughs. "Can I join?"

She hesitates for a brief moment before giving him a confident nod.

He hails the bartender over and orders himself a beer. "Look, Bec, I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you that much earlier."

"You don't have to apologize, I get it."

"No, but I do. We haven't seen each other in, what, two years? We were together for almost four. I want to catch up, you know? I still care about you."

Beca takes her time swallowing her alcohol (she wasn't entirely sure what exactly what she was drinking– she asked the bartender to give her something that wouldn't fuck her over but would get her to loosen up), trying to get her feelings in check. On one hand, she wanted to slap him, because _how dare he?_ On the other hand, she wanted to make out just to feel his stubble on her skin again.

She also wanted to run.

"Jesse..." She sighs, then swallows thickly. "Can we just talk like old times? How's Los Angeles?"

He frowns, clearly recognizing the walls she's put up. He takes a swig of his beer before responding. "LA's fun. My boss is really mean but he pays me to do what I love. How about you, hot shot music producer?"

"I'm actually trying to get transferred over to LA soon. Residual Heat wants me to do stuff there but I'm still trying to find a place," she shrugs.

"No more burrito runs and coffee making?" He jokes, making Beca both snort and cringe at the memories of her first few months at her job. "Well, when you do find a place, don't forget to tell me."

She gives him a curt nod. "Will do."

"Okay, Bec. I've got a question I've been dying to ask..."

She raises an eyebrow in anticipation, not quite sure if the smug look on her face meant anything. "Lay it on me, nerd."

"Please tell me you've seen the latest _Star Wars_ movie."

They spend the next hour or so laughing, reminiscing about their days at Barden, as well as their lives after college. They talk about how she hated sharing an apartment with Chloe because of her unhealthy habit of piling all her dirty dishes at once, and how he could only keep his only pet, a goldfish, alive for three weeks before flushing her down the toilet. They laugh, he hums the tune of one of the scores he was working on, and she asks for VIP tickets to the premiere of the next indie movie he was scoring for. Not once do they mention Olivia, or romantic interests at all, the entire time.

She doesn't miss the way her chest tightens when he touches her hand, or the way his adam's apple bobbed as he consumed his beer. She noticed how he's built quite the impressive body over two years, and how his bicep flexed every so often like a twitch. When they get up to leave, he takes her in his arms again, but this time, she relaxes onto his hold and tries not to linger too long. It's a familiar embrace, not like the one at the rehearsal, and she finds herself trying to fight off how natural she felt in his arms. He presses a kiss to her cheek, the smell of Bud Light sticking faintly to her cheek, and with that, they part their ways, him up the hotel elevator and her in an Uber.

* * *

Beca helps Amy get ready by listening to her fears about getting married to Bumper and his weird family. Beca knows she's fine– Amy has a weird family of her own– but she figures her listening ears are enough for Fat Amy from going full out bridezilla. She was just about tuning her out when the blonde says something that makes her do a double take.

"Wait, what did you just say?"

"I said, 'Oh, by the way, you've been paired with Jesse.'"

"What?"

"My cousin Millie has the runs, something about American food being too potent on her digestion system," Amy says nonchalantly. "She won't make it down the aisle without shitting herself, and that simply can't do."

"Amy!" Beca hisses, "I was supposed to walk out _alone_."

"Too bad, flatbutt."

* * *

She's busy fixing her dress (God damn her height– the length of it it made her look Dopey of the Seven Dwarves), when she feels a light tap on her arm.

She turns around to face Jesse, wearing a charming smile to accompany his dapper navy tux. His eyes roam to her dress, which she was still fidgeting with, to the loose curls hanging out of her updo. "Wow, you look beautiful, Becs."

Blood rushes to her cheeks.

 _Jesus Christ, Beca. What happened to your badassery?_

She exhales deeply to collect herself before responding. "Thanks, Jesse. You look pretty handsome yourself," she winks, successfully casual in every way.

"Thanks," he smirks, "I take it you got the news?"

Beca nods. "Poor Cousin Millie."

Jesse laughs. "American cuisine is not for the weak."

The music signals them to line-up and start walking, and since Fat Amy's idea of a wedding was grand and gaudy, there was naturally a long line of people in the wedding party, categorized from least to most important. Beca and Jesse situate themselves a few rows before the parents and best man and maid of honor.

"M'lady," he offers his arm to her, to which she hooks hers through. He smiles gratuitous grin, and she gives him her own. She hums quietly, relishing the feel of his firm bicep under her fingers.

It takes awhile, but eventually the two get their chance to stroll down the aisle. It's a weird feeling, but she doesn't mind it. She sees Chloe give her a confused stare from her place next to the altar, to which she shrugs in reply.

They part their ways when they finally reach the end of the long stretch. The ceremony is full of laughs and heartfelt moments, and Beca can't help but shed a tear or two by the time the ceremony is over. Jesse and Beca find themselves arm-in-arm again, following the newlyweds to get pictures while the guests headed to cocktail hour.

The rest of the couples have split off, but Jesse's still clinging onto her side.

She's not complaining.

"How crazy is it that they went from despising each other to falling in love?" She says, smiling at the happy couple.

"Sounds like us," Jesse comments, making Beca reluctantly raise an eyebrow. "I mean, I never despised you. I just got that vibe from you that first year at Barden."

"For the record, I never despised you, either. You were a little too nerdy for my tastes, but obviously I grew to embrace it," she says wryly. "And I don't recall throwing a burrito at you to publicly humiliate you and your a cappella group."

"I guess Amy and Bumper are one of a kind."

"Yep."

"And so were we," he winks.

She scoffs and shoves him playfully, but she can't help the churning in her stomach. "Stop talking."

"Make me."

"That's one hell of a threat for an eight year old."

He pokes his tongue out at her, making her roll her eyes.

They're forced to split eventually, with Chloe taking Jesse's spot when it's just the bridesmaids photos.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

They pause to grin at the photographer.

"You and Jesse."

"Oh, right. Amy's cousin Millie has the runs and Amy didn't want to step in her shit while walking down the aisle."

"Not that, I already knew that. You're acting all couple-y. Is there something you need to tell me?"

"Look, Chlo, we ran into each other at the bar last night and we talked, we drank. It was a good time."

Chloe gives her a look. "A good time?"

"Not that kind of good time," Beca snaps at the ginger wiggling her eyebrows.

* * *

"To Amy and Bumper!"

A series of glass clinking is heard around the spacious venue, while Beca's already spilling half of her champagne down her throat. She winces before settling into her seat, watching as the Treblemakers of the class of 2012 take stage for their performance.

(It wouldn't be an a ca-wedding without some a cappella)

They boys sing a rather sultry and upbeat version of John Mayer's "Your Body Is A Wonderland." Her eyes train on Jesse, who sang back-up to Bumper. She could feel herself heat up just hearing him sing again, so she bites the inner wall of her cheek to keep herself from doing anything stupid. The nerd is making eye contact with her, which is really not helping her current predicament. Plus, he was doing that lethal hip thing, and, _God_ , she needs that to stop before she makes a fool out of herself.

The end of their (read: Jesse's) performance makes her insides feel like their falling apart. She gulps down another mouthful of champagne before realizing her glass was empty, making her huff in disappointment.

"Beca, hurry up," Aubrey urges her onto the stage with the rest of the 2012 Bellas. Beca shakes herself and takes a deep breath, hoping to get rid of what she just experienced out of her head.

Fat Amy is the only soloist, as it is her wedding, even with Beca's arrangements of "E.T.", "Crazy in Love", and "We Belong."

By the end of their performance, Beca's all sweaty, and Bumper's sobbing into his dinner plate.

Chloe's talking to her, Stacie and, Aubrey about Fat Amy's weird cousin from Australia who keeps on hitting on her, but all Beca could focus on was the texture of the cake she was madly chewing while staring blatantly at Jesse and Olivia on the dance floor. He was smiling and she kept giggling while they danced the electric slide.

It's driving Beca _nuts_.

"I can see your toner through that dress, Beca," Aubrey says into her ear lowly, just enough to keep from distracting Chloe.

Beca just rolls her eyes at the blonde and continues tearing through her cake until she's had her last bite. "You need to stop using that word. I'm gonna go get some more cake."

"How about some vodka?" Stacie smirks.

Beca glares at Stacie and snatches her own champagne glass before stalking off. She comes back with a glass full of champagne, but an empty table. Her eyebrows scrunch together as she searches the venue for her friends, only to find them flirting with the leader of the band. She shakes her head and observes the room in action, calmly spotting Jesse coming towards her holding his own glass of champagne.

"Hey, nerd. Where's Olivia?"

"Bathroom."

She gives him a curt nod. "You sounded great up there."

"Thanks, I guess I still got it," he chuckles, shaking his hips ridiculously, which results in a laugh from Beca.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, here's to all the weirdos out there."

The band starts playing a slow acoustic version of "Don't You (Forget About Me)", immediately catching their attention. Beca finds her friends in the front, smugly smirking, as though they were egging her on.

 _Those evil bastards._

"Becs, it's our song! C'mon, let's dance."

He takes her hand and drags her to the dance floor. He places his hands around her waist and pulls her closer, with her hands on his shoulders as they gently sway to the acoustics.

"Anyways, I think the Bellas sounded great too, but honestly, there's only so much of Fat Amy I can take." He breathes unexpectedly into her ear, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "I would've rather heard you up there."

"Not too loud, now, or Amy's gonna hear you," she whispers back, biting her lip at the way his Adam's apple bobbed slowly. "Better yet, Olivia's gonna hear."

"What does Olivia have anything to do with that?" He asks, moving away from her ear to look at her straight on.

"Wouldn't want your date to–"

"Olivia's not my date," he begins to explain, and Beca hopes he doesn't notice the flustered look on her face. "Well, she is. But we aren't together. Olivia's my boss's daughter. The only way my he would let me come out here is if I showed Olivia around Barden. I wasn't going to leave her to fend for herself while I was here at the wedding."

 _Oh._

Now she feels embarrassed for thinking the two of them looked hot together, especially since she's, what, eighteen?

God.

"Oh."

They continue to sway along to the beat, with Jesse humming close to her ear. She finally lets herself relax in his hold, leaning into him so that he could wrap his arms around the small of her back.

"Was _the_ Beca Mitchell jealous?" He teases.

She smacks his shoulder lightly, scrunching her nose and shaking her head cooly. "Uh, nope."

He gives her a cynical eye, those brown orbs glinting with its familiar playfulness. "Okay. I believe you."

The song ends with the traditional Jesse pumping his fist in the air, a gesture that never fails to make her smile.

They move off the dance floor, hand in hand, just in time for Olivia to come back from the bathroom.

"Jesse, I'm gonna head to my hotel room a little early. I wanna Skype my boyfriend before it gets too late. I'll see you in the morning," the blonde says in a rushed tone, acknowledging Beca with a nod. "It was nice meeting you, Beca."

"You too, Olivia."

The girl vanishes, leaving Jesse and Beca alone.

Beca's left staring at their intertwined fingers, wondering what the hell was exactly happening. Ten minutes ago she was swimming in a pit of green and goopy jealousy, and now she's here, finding it difficult to peel herself away from his atmosphere.

They move to a quiet corner of the venue, out of sight to most of the wedding-goers.

"I missed you, Becs," he murmurs quietly. The pads of his thumbs are rubbing circles on her knuckles, a sensation she forgot she loved.

She squeezes his hands and steps closer so that they were only a few inches apart. He raises her chin up so that they were staring directly into each other's eyes, each stirring in a mix of love, longing, and affection.

Fuck it.

She leans in and kisses him softly, hands now firmly on his chest, as he indulges in the taste of vanilla frosting on her lips. His arms envelop her back, bringing their hips closer. Her chest feels a lot lighter and it gives her the courage to deepen the kiss, pulling away with a soft 'plop' whenever air became a problem.

She's smiling against his mouth, foreheads touching. It's been a long time since she's felt this way, and, man, does it feel _good._

"I missed you, too," she breathes when they finally pull away. "A lot."

He cracks a grin and kisses her nose. "How did I go two years without you?"

She licks her lips, letting go of whatever ounce of stubborn dignity she had left. "How about we make up the last two years somewhere else?" She presses her lips to his jawline, just below his ear, making him visibly shiver at the touch.

His Adam's apple bobs when she dips a finger underneath the waistband of his slacks and boxers, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "If you insist–"

"Can we have the wedding party on the stage please? It's time to exchange remarks about the bride and groom," the man at the mic suddenly calls, grabbing Jesse and Beca's attention.

She smirks when she hears him groan under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck furiously. She takes his hand and they make their way to the stage, with Jesse slugging along with an impatient half-frown. She stands in front of him, his hands on her waist as he pulls her closer to his hips. "This better go fast."

"You seem to be in a hurry," she comments smugly.

"Yeah, well we have a lot to catch up on," he nibbles lightly on the shell of her ear.

She clenches her jaw and elbows him slightly. "Not _now_ , nerd."

He shrugs and encircles his arms around her hips, pressing his lips against the back of her neck. "What can I say, I'm a man with needs."

She grins despite his complete and utter nerdiness.

* * *

They end up in a hotel linen closet.

Beca's hands roam the scores of his bare chest as he struggled to get the zipper of her dress down. She's sucking on his neck lightly, gently biting and nipping while he messily works with her dress. He successfully lets the fabric slide off her body, leaving her in nothing but a black lace thong.

"No bra?"

"Didn't need one."

He takes in the full view of her exposed breasts, eyes dilated as he takes in the delicious sight of her nipples. He licks his lips before crashing his lips to hers, kneading a sensitive breast in one hand and tugging at her hair with the other. She moans when he pinches her nipple, eliciting a smirk from Jesse as he places kisses down her throat and to her remaining breast, taking her in with his mouth, rolling her nipple under his tongue.

"Jesse, fuck," she gasps, pulling his head closer to her as she squirms against the wall. She palms the bulge through his pants, making him groan as he drops his head between her breasts. She fiddles with the button on his pants and pulls them down, freeing his erection at last.

She wraps a leg around his groin and grinds into him, pulling the two closer yet again. He growls at the sensation and pins her against the wall roughly, letting her hips rock into his. Her nails dig into his back when he attacks her already swollen lips with his, eyes darkened with need. His fingers creep between their bodies to pull the lacy black thing down, brushing her inner thigh with the pads of his fingers. She shimmies out of the thong, gasping when his finger suddenly curls into her entrance. She moans loudly against his lips, panting hard as he pushes through her slick folds, a thumb ghosting over her clit.

"Jesse, please," she whimpers, her clit aching. Her breaths are uneven as he continues to tease her, her eyes rolling into her head when he inserts another finger into her. He invites his tongue into her mouth, her body shaking while he works her over with those talented, music scoring fingers. She's just about had it and reaches down to touch herself when his thumb presses down onto her clit, roughly rubbing it in a circular motion as she writhed in pleasure.

She nearly screams when he curls his fingers and hits her G-spot. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest, skin flushed against his, as she begins to tremble in his palm. Her walls tighten around his fingers, eliciting a breathy sighs from her and a guttural groan from him. She's seeing stars, panting heavily and dropping her leg from his hip as she rides the rest of her orgasm. He kisses her senselessly and pulls out of her to take his boxers off, kicking them to the side. He pumps himself with her wetness a few times before she takes over, wrapping her fingers around him and lightly scratching up his shaft and traces around his head. His member twitches, already the hardest he's ever been, as she pumps him with a moist palm. He tugs at the hair on the back of her head, gently massaging her scalp as he closes his eyes and hums in pleasure.

She's flush against the wall, forehead against his, a light sheen of sweat already coating her skin. "Do you have–"

He nods before she can finish her sentence and fishes into his pants pocket to find his wallet. He tears the condom wrapper open and rolls it onto his dick, positioning himself against her entrance as she hooks a leg just above his ass. He takes a moment to study the different shades of blues in her eyes, brushing a few stray hairs from her face to kiss her passionately. He slowly pushes into her, stilling to let her adjust. The petite brunette sighs, her chest heaving, at the feeling of him being inside her again.

"Fuck," he groans, burying his face into her neck as he pushed deeper into her. She bucks her hips into his, quickly getting impatient with the pace they were going at, and arches her back into him so that he's fully inside her. Jesse pulls out fully and immediately thrusts back in, arousing loud moans from the both of them. Her breasts rise and fall as he quickens the pace of his thrusts.

His eyes are trained on her every moment of the way. She takes in the way his eyes changes from a dark brown to a warmer shade whenever he felt passionate about something, a trait she's familiarized herself with so much that she's missed it. She takes in the way his bicep tensed to hold her ass up, how he still smelled like that cologne he's had since their freshmen year, how he's remembered all of her sweet spots. How his light stubble scratched made her skin raw. How it felt when he did that thing with his hips that made her jolt up and down further into him. How she knew exactly how to get him to come.

They go at a steady speed, with somewhere along the way her leg's are tightly wrapped fully around his hips as he pumps into her, with nothing but his arms and the wall holding her up. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, kissing him blissfully, as they relish in each other's bodies again. She's missed this. She's missed him.

She comes first, with her walls pulsating tightly against his dick as he worked on rubbing against her clit with the pads of his fingers. She's gasping at the feeling of the knot in her stomach coming undone, her pussy still throbbing while her stomach retracts to combat her breathing. He comes shortly after her, leaving them both chasing their orgasms. By the end of it, they're sticky and sweaty and tired and in a random closet, but they're happy.

* * *

The next morning, Beca wakes up in Jesse's hotel room with over a hundred texts from the girls.

She ignores them all.

Instead, she and Jesse go for another round after room service (regrettably) hands them a can of whipped cream to accompany their pancakes.

* * *

 _You know you're gonna have to face it_  
 _You're addicted to love_

* * *

 **A/N- This is my first time writing smut, so be gentle with me. I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone by merging two prompts and doubling the word count. I wasn't really sure of what text post that was (I've tried searching it up but I had no luck) so this is as close as it's gonna get. Title's from Rita Ora's "Poison"**

 **Also, I'm incapable of writing drabbles so hopefully this satisfies. Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	5. i might lose myself

"Anonymous said: Hi! *I love your blog btw* AU where Beca and Jesse are caught by the Bellas doing you know what. (Sorry if you've already written something like this)"

Warning: Rated M. This is, like, more than 50% smut. You've been warned.

(What?! AGAIN?! Well, I'm just going through the prompt list, it's not totally my fault you guys keep requesting such ;-)

* * *

 **i might lose myself (in you)**

* * *

Chaos ensues when the Bellas get their own house on campus.

Chloe, Cynthia-Rose, and Jessica decorate the place nicely, with white couches and patterned pillows and everything.

Lilly nearly sets the house on fire, Fat Amy wipes her pizza grease on the walls, and Stacie's already spilled her nail polish on the floor about ten times.

They've only been there for three days.

Having the girls around was fun, but already these past seventy two or so hours has Beca running to the Treble's or her dad's house to get some peace and quiet. She's sure the chaos will simmer down eventually, but she's not sure exactly when, and that might be a problem.

She loves the girls, she really does, but having a boyfriend not too far away really had its perks. There was only so much she could take of all the shenanigans.

Jesse visits every day, helping the girls move in individually. They like him enough to trust him with their belongings, which results in roommates bickering about the placement of the furniture as Jesse shuffles them around to please every Bella. It doesn't give Beca and Jesse much time to hang out one on one, but she's thankful for his help anyways.

* * *

When the two finally get a moment alone, it's at the Treble house not too far from the Bellas. Jesse's still sharing a room with Benji, and just as Beca's fumbling with the buttons on Jesse's shirt with her hips grinding into his, their magician friend barges in with a random girl, looking helpless and mildly into it as she pushes him around without a top on.

Jesse ends up spending the night in Beca's room that night, listening to Fat Amy babble about Golden Gaytimes in Australia, but half wishing she would just shut up and leave so that Beca could finish what she started earlier.

She wakes up the following morning grimacing at the feel of his hard-on pressed against her ass, when really she shouldn't be grimacing since any other morning she'd help him take care of that quite easily.

But with Fat Amy snoring heavily just across the room, she can't really do that. And that was not only a painful problem for him, it was a painful problem for her.

(She hasn't gotten any action since moving in, and she was getting impatient. It was especially frustrating having to watch him all sweaty and heavy lifting boxes and looking sexy in those jeans that hung a little low).

She just wants to fuck her boyfriend (and before the semester actually starts, she might add). That's all she's asking.

However, she can't do that when the girls are there.

All. The. Time.

"Jesse," she mumbles haphazardly that morning, waiting for his response, a whine, before nudging him away with the back of her hand. "You're all up on my ass."

"Your bed is too small."

"You are literally on my ass."

He groans and pulls her on top of him, a sleepy glint in his eyes. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

"Absolutely nothing," she tosses a thumb over to the Australian snoozing a couple feet away.

He juts his lips out in a pout, making her roll her eyes. Instead, she kisses him soundly, swinging a leg over his torso to straddle him. She rests her elbows on his chest, smiling smugly at the pained look in his eyes.

"You're the worst."

She responds with another kiss, this one deeper and with tongue. He groans gruffly, rubbing his temples roughly with his thumbs.

"I _hate_ you. If we don't stop," he pauses to take her lips again, "I can't be held accountable for my actions."

She pats his cheek affectionately before pressing her lips to it. "I'm sorry."

"No you aren't."

"Yes, I am. We haven't had sex in two weeks. Hell, _Benji's_ getting more action than me. I can't even touch myself because the girls are always around. Trust me, I want you just as badly," she huffs in frustration.

She feels his fingers ghost over her thighs, the lightest touches making her skin tingle. "Can you not talk about touching yourself? I'm already sort of dying down there," he growls lowly, his fingers slowly making their way up her shorts.

Beca grits her teeth."Well if you stop doing that thing you're doing right now maybe I-"

"Wow, this is better than watching a dingo threesome."

They're not really sure when Amy's snoring stopped.

"Okay," Jesse clears his throat, nudging Beca off of his torso to sit up.

"Amy, can you-"

"No."

Beca glares at her scoots off her bed, dragging Jesse out and into the bathroom. She locks the door behind them, her hands immediately going to free his dick from the confines of his boxers. She turns the shower on and pushes him in, then turns around to brush her teeth in the mirror.

"You're not joining?"

"Nope. I guarantee the girls are all right outside this door listening in."

She waits for the shower glass to fully steam up before spitting her toothpaste out and exiting the bathroom.

Sure enough, all seven girls were camped outside the door.

"Beca, you never told me about Jesse's donger," Amy pretends to shoot a finger gun from her crotch, slowly pointing upwards with a wink and a click of her tongue. The girls giggle.

Beca scowls.

* * *

A week passes. Two weeks. Three weeks. Still, nothing.

Neither of them can stand it.

It's not that they don't _try_.

Benji's been hiding out in their dorm ever since his random hook-up.

The girls tease them relentlessly every time he's over.

His car was at the shop.

Closets were full.

The bathrooms smelled.

They broke the desk at the radio station last time.

(Long story short: Luke found out and, well, now he never leaves)

Their sex life sucked, well, since it was basically nonexistent at this point.

You'd think a life of abstinence would be looking significantly brighter, but with Beca strutting her stuff at the freshmen orientation performance in those leather jeans and (very) small crop top that did wonders to her boobs, it was making it very difficult.

Plus she was singing Jessie J's "Bang Bang" and, _fuck_ , his girlfriend's voice was insanely hot.

He's painfully aware of the problem in his pants, but, being the devoted and loving boyfriend that he was, he wasn't exactly allowed to fix it in the middle of the performance.

So he stands there, simultaneously sulking and willing his dick to calm down.

But then they transition to "Mirrors" by Justin Timberlake, and Jesse's not sure how they got the permission to perform this set in the first place, because what they were doing on stage wasn't exactly appropriate to show college freshmen.

He kind of hates his life at the moment.

He lets Beca's hoodie hang around his arm to cover the situation in his pants and approaches Beca once the Bellas enter backstage after finishing their performance.

"Hey, how'd we do?" She asks, balancing on her toes to peck him on the lips.

"Really good."

She tries to take his hoodie from his arm, but he stubbornly refuses. She gives him a look. "Can I have my hoodie back?"

"Nope."

She folds her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow. "And why not?"

"I can't."

She tugs the hoodie aside and glimpses the problem. She smirks. "Oh, I see."

He smiles sheepishly, adjusting the hoodie to fully cover his crotch. "Yeah."

"The performance was that good?"

"Yup."

"Sounds like you have a problem."

"No thanks to you."

"I can't help it."

"You can help _me_."

"Me? Help you?" She snorts, much to his disdain.

"Beca," he growls lowly, begging at this point.

She palms him through his jeans behind the hoodie, a half smirk playing on her lips. He closes his eyes and struggles to steady his breathing when she rubs him slowly, his dick twitching in response.

She leans into his ear, a hand pressed against his chest with the other still hidden under the hoodie. "I guess I might be able to help. This may not be the best place, though?" She glances around and sneakily flashes him her nipple, winking. "I'm not wearing anything under these pants, either, you know."

His Adam's apple bobs as he tries not to groan out loud, and he nods in response, taking her hand as she pulls him hurriedly to the stage door.

"Beca, where do you think you're going? We need you!" Chloe calls from across the room, hands on hips as she glares at the co-leader. The regret on Beca's face shows in the way her teeth clamps down on her bottom lip, her eyebrows coming together in a frown.

Jesse really wants to kill Chloe.

Beca sighs. "I'm sorry, it slipped my mind. Official Bella meeting with the board. I'll make it up to you later, okay? I promise," she kisses him deeply before setting off towards Chloe and the rest of the Bellas, leaving him with a set of blue balls that he was surely never going to recover from.

Yeah, Jesse definitely should've killed Chloe when he had the chance.

* * *

Beca finds him a couple hours later at the Sigma Theta Beta party. He's playing beer pong with the rest of the Trebles, his problem seemingly fixed. She sneaks up behind him, pressing a messy kiss on his cheek.

"Hey weirdo," he grins once he sees her, snaking an arm around her shoulders as he aims towards a cup with the other. He misses and buries his face in her hair in mock embarrassment.

"You're pretty bad at this," she comments coyly.

He shrugs. "Hand-eye coordination has never been my thing."

"You play the fucking piano!"

He chuckles, finally making it into a cup. He drinks the booze in two gulps, burping loudly, much to Beca's disgust.

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Just two."

They end up on the dance floor shortly after, with Beca grinding against Jesse holding onto her waist as the music pumps adrenaline into their veins. Jesse pulls her closer, relishing in the way her hips dug into his. He kisses her neck as his hands explore the strip of skin between her crop top and pants. The crowd doesn't seem to notice when his fingers edge underneath the top, tickling her ribcage. She responds by grinding harder into him, breathing hitched when she begins to feel him stiffen.

"You know that promise you made earlier?" Jesse huffs into her ear, his fingers brushing over the underside of her breast. "Are you ever gonna stick to it?"

"How about we get to that now?" she suggests, turning around to face him, flush in the face. She licks her lip seductively, curling a finger around his belt loop and pulling them together. "No one's at the Bella house."

They quickly make the short trek to the house, appreciating the silence inside. They slam and lock the door behind them, breaths uneven as they tug at each others' clothes. His shirt is the first thing she tears off his body, her hands roaming the planes and dips of abdomen. She nips at his lips, releasing his bottom lip as she looks into his eyes. She shimmies out of her leather pants and grins at the way his eyes darken at the sight of her, bare.

"Fuck, Beca," he moans, groping her ass with his palm and gently massaging it. He drinks in the way she looked in nothing but a crop top, her nipples peaking through the white fabric. He kisses her messily and lifts her so that she could wrap her legs around him, her pussy pressing just below his naval.

He carries her to the kitchen counter, kissing her roughly before setting her down on the cool wood. She yelps at the feeling and scoots closer off the edge, burying herself in his neck and gently sucking on his pulse point. His fingers trail up and down her thighs. She shivers at the tough on her sensitive skin and holds her breath when she feels a digit graze her pussy.

"Jesse, hurry up" she hisses impatiently, fighting to keep her breathing even when he inserts a finger into her. She lets out a shuddery sigh, her lips form a perfect 'o', and she squeezes her eyes shut when he presses a calloused thumb onto her clit. She squirms as he plays with her folds, pumping into her slick opening at a slow pace before adding another finger. He takes his other hand and tilts her chin so that he was looking directly into her eyes, watching her ride him with lust.

He takes her mouth in his, kissing her roughly while he strokes along her walls. She moans loudly when he curls his fingers in her in a continuous motion, eyes fluttering shut again at the immense pleasure she was riding. His thumb rubs her clit rhythmically, his fingers meeting her G-spot. When she gasps his name, it echoes throughout the entire house.

She releases his lips briefly to pull her top off, letting her breasts hang freely while he tweaks with her hardened nipple. She can't help pressing sloppy kisses along his jawline to the bob of his Adam's apple, hands clawing at his back. He lowers his head to kiss the top of her breasts, eventually rolling a nipple under his tongue with the other being tweaked with his fingers. She lets out breathy sighs and buries her face into his hair, making marks along the length of his back while he continues fucking her with his fingers. He lets go of her breast and travels south, sprinkling kisses along her smooth stomach, stopping just above her clit.

Her pussy throbs when he pulls his fingers out of her, agonizingly slow. She whimpers, tugging at the back of his head so that he was right up against her. She nearly screams when his tongue licks at her opening and into her, exploring up her walls as she clenches her thighs around him, thrusting his tongue deeper into her. He traces figure-8s in a slow motion, eventually picking up the pace. She pants as she rides his face, her own fingers reaching down to rub her clit, but he smacks it away and does it himself. Her legs start to feel like jelly and her knees go weak, her pussy trembling as she was nearing her orgasm.

"Fuck, I'm so close," she shivers, screaming his name when he hits her G-spot with the stroke of his exceptionally talented tongue. His thumb rubs her clit rhythmically, stimulating the pit in her stomach to finally explode. She moans, blinking back stars as she rides her orgasm on the kitchen counter. Her walls tighten around his tongue as he continues thrusting, letting her come in his mouth.

"Bedroom," she pants, still coming down from her orgasm, and slides off the counter. She pushes him towards the staircase, pausing at the middle of the climb to undo his zipper. His pants drop to the ground, leaving him in a pair of boxers and a set of painfully blue balls as they continue up and into Beca's room. Once they make it to her bed, she slides his boxers down to free his erection, making him groan. She goes on her knees and takes him in her hands, lubing up with her spit and the remaining come spattered against her thighs. He watches her nimble fingers drag against his shaft, the hair at the back of his neck standing up when she gently blows cool air on his head. He closes his eyes and curses at the feeling of her tongue along his shaft, lapping at the beads of precum dripping from his slit. Her lips encircle his shaft, kissing and sucking the tip while he bucks into her mouth, his eyes closing at the feeling. He grabs a fistful of her hair and brings her closer, fucking her mouth as she quickens her pace and clears the remains of his precum. Suddenly, her hands wrap around shaft, her mouth still bobbing into his shaft, twisting his skin as she lightly grazes her teeth against him.

"Shit, Beca!" He groans, feeling himself hit the back of her throat. Her hand travels to his balls, gently massaging them as she continued to deep throat him, his eyes clamped shut in pleasure. She fucks him, gag reflex aside, until he finally hits his orgasm, groaning her name loudly when he comes into her throat. She swallows as he comes, wiping her chin clear of saliva with the back of her wrist when he finishes.

She continues to pump him with her hands until he pins her onto the bed, attacking her lips with his. She kisses him back with equal fervor, reaching for her nightstand for a condom. She rolls it onto his already hard member and lets him position himself just above her entrance before slamming into her.

"Fuck," she gasps, rolling into him as she stretches around him. She flips them, still attached at the waist, and rides him roughly, her palms pressed firmly against his chest. Her breasts bounce with each thrust, something Jesse deliciously takes in with each little movement. He reaches to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples until he flips them over again, removing a hand to shift her thigh higher so that he could fully take her in. She moans at the feeling that shakes through her body. Her toes curl as she hooks her leg around him, making sure to explore every inch he had to offer.

His thrusts are fast and deep, but slow when he starts to feel the pit in his stomach coming undone. He quickens his pace, kissing her swollen lips and leaving love bites along her neck. His hands are rubbing along the arch of her back and to the curvature of her ass, eventually making their way to her hair when she finally hits her climax.

Intense pleasure ripples through her entire body, nearly knocking the wind out of her as the intensity only builds. The blues in her eyes are electrifying as they roll back into her head, the bliss buzzing in her bones. Her muscles stiffen involuntarily, her body shaking when he finally stills inside her. Her walls squeezes around him while he rides his own orgasm, having them both moaning loudly in complete ecstasy.

They haven't felt this euphoric in a long time, and it feels amazing. From the way the scratches on his back were still raw to the way her legs felt like jelly, the month of abstinence they were forced to partake in couldn't have came to a better end.

* * *

He throws away the used condom into the trash and climbs into a hot shower with her. She gently lathers the stinging red lines on his back with soap while he massages her scalp with her strawberry shampoo.

When they finish up, Jesse walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, the main objective to find his boxers and her some undergarment to wear for bed. He stops dead in his tracks when he spies the girls watching him from the staircase.

"Uh, hi ladies," he says, embarrassed without any clothes on.

Beca pokes her head out of the bathroom door curiously before stepping out in a towel of her own, glaring at the pack of girls. "This is a big house, why are you all always in my room?"

"This is my room, too, flatbutt," Fat Amy shrugs.

"Okay, everyone _except_ Amy."

The Australian nods in solemn agreement.

Jessica clears her throat. "Well, we heard noises when we got back from the party..."

"We were concerned," Ashley adds in.

"You two are fucking _loud_ , Jesus Christ!" Stacie fans herself with her hand, only earning an even sterner glare from Beca, although this one more embarrassed than angry. "That was _so_ hot. You two should have sex more often when we're around."

"Stacie! We are not encouraging this!" Chloe snaps.

"Um, ladies, if we could discuss this some other time... I'm kind of half naked," Jesse pipes, shooing the girls away.

"You two left quite the trail downstairs, you might need these." Amy throws their clothes at them before hurrying away with the girls, whose giggles could be heard even as the distance between them lengthened.

* * *

The Bellas create a few house rules after that.

One of them includes putting a sock on the door whenever someone was getting their fix.

And in extreme cases (see: Beca and Jesse's raging sex drives after the month of abstinence), a sock on the front door of the house and a text to the Bellas group chat depicting an eggplant, peach, and house emoji.

* * *

 **A/N- Whew, what a chapter. This wasn't really AU but I hope this pleased anyways. Title from FKA Twigs' "Ache".**

 **Thanks all for your kind comments from the last chapter. Feedback from that pushed me to finish this one a day earlier than expected, so more would be greatly appreciated :-)**


	6. feel like a champion

Prompt:

"So we know from the 2nd film that the bellas are a three time national acapella champions. Can you write something about the trebles reaction every time they lost? I imagine them being pissed at jesse but he never really cared about winning."

* * *

 **(girl, when i'm with you i) feel like a champion**

The first year they lose was the best year they lost.

Coming into the competition was stressful. Bumper had just quit and Benji had to learn all of the choreography in a matter of days. Jesse unofficially became co-leaders alongside Donald.

And he wasn't talking to Beca.

So yeah, he wasn't exactly pumped that first ICCAs.

He felt great after performing, he always does, but knowing the Bellas were up after them wasn't an easy feeling. Watching Beca sing always makes him happy, but at the time he wasn't too enthralled with the idea of having to sit through their set and _not_ make those silly little lovestruck eyes at her.

But then she started singing a song— _their_ song— and he couldn't believe his ears. She was singing to him like he was the only person in the room, and, hell, it was amazing. She was apologizing in the best way possible; she was telling him that she understood and that she was willing to fight for him. It blew his mind.

So naturally, he didn't care about winning. Maybe the guys were a little disappointed, but they already had at least a dozen of those trophies. Losing one wouldn't hurt.

He got the perfect happy ending to an eventful freshmen year, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

The next year, however, Jesse vowed to take back that trophy.

"Hey, Becs," he called one day, bounding up to his girlfriend to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I might be stepping out of line, but could you tell me what you're planning for Regionals?"

Beca gave him a narrow stare. "No?"

"Aw come on, give me a hint. So we don't end up singing the same thing," he reasoned, walking stride for stride with her down to the campus housing area.

"What, are you scared that we'd do better than you if we did?"

"No!"

"Okay, then tell me what _you're_ planning," she poked him on the chest in an intimidating fashion, but really, the gesture made her look adorable.

He faltered slightly. "Um, I can't."

"Then why should I?" She questioned. She snorted and patted him affectionately on the shoulder when he didn't say anything.

He pouted. "You just wait and see, Mitchell. The Trebles are still reigning Regional champions!"

"We're using last names now?" She laughed. "Okay, Swanson. Bring it on."

However, he changed his mind when he saw them perform at Regionals. He knew they were beaten from the beginning, with his girlfriend being a music mastermind and all. He felt really lucky to watch her work her stuff on stage, and he felt even luckier when she was doing body shots off him later that day.

By the time Nationals came around, he stopped caring. He performed the hell out of that stage in Lincoln Center, and the crowd loved their energy. But what he was really looking forward to was the Bellas' set, an arrangement of "Suit and Tie", "Started From the Bottom, "Shake It Off", and "Do My Thang."

It was mind blowing.

There wasn't anything quite as heart warming as watching his girl do what she loves.

(Plus, he could finally make those silly little lovestruck eyes at her.)

Afterwards, they ditched the after parties and got ice cream together for their one-year anniversary.

The Bellas ended up winning everything that year. The new Trebles weren't exactly pleased with the results. In fact, they were pissed. A lot of them quit after they lost, much to Jesse and Benji's disdain.

They still had two years to conquer the a cappella world again.

* * *

They surprisingly found a few guys who were actually interested at the activity fair their third year. Many of them promised to be at auditions and some even sang with them. Benji and Jesse thought they finally had a shot.

Until the old Trebles who quit last year began to rally.

"Down with the Trebles! Dethrone Jesse Swanson and Benji Applebaum!" They wave around their signs outside of auditions, effectively scaring off potential new members. Jesse stared at the group, speechless.

Benji panicked. "Jesse, what are we gonna do?!"

"Just ignore them, Benj. We'll walk past and pretend they don't exist."

They get into Schnee Performing Arts Center swiftly, but when they sit down, they had no resumés to look through, and neither did the other groups. He scanned through the rows of seats and laid eyes on Beca, who was wearing the same confused expression on her face.

"Um, where are the a ca losers?" Fat Amy asked loudly, her forehead scrunched when she peeked her head out of the stage wings.

"There's a crowd outside," a new member from last year's Trebles, Blake, echoed.

"Why aren't they inside?"

"They're protesting us."

Beca sat up from her seat and looked at Jesse. "Us?"

"Yeah, members from last year hated being second place and they're boycotting," he answered, a little too coyly.

"Fuck, are they scaring off auditions?!" The brunette strode out of her seat and beckoned Jesse over with a flick of her wrist, motioning him to come with her to investigate the protesters.

Sure enough, they've blockaded the door with their bodies, a line of a cappella hopefuls uncomfortably waiting.

"What the fuck?! Jesse, fix this!" Beca yelled, pushing her boyfriend to confront the angry set of guys.

Jesse cleared his throat. "Uh, look guys, I know that we had our differences in the past but if you could leave that would be awesome."

The protesters laughed and continued chanting.

"HEY," Beca screamed, her tiny hands balled into clenched fists. "If you don't leave this area in the next fucking minute, I will personally rip out all of your throats and feed them to the wolves."

Angry and irritated Beca might've been scary, but scary Beca was also undeniably hot.

(He had flashbacks of her punching that Tonehanger square in the jaw for him. Those were the days).

He couldn't help it, okay?

"You might wanna listen to her, guys. She punched a grown man and went to jail over it."

Okay, that might've been a bit of a stretch, but what they didn't know didn't hurt.

Beca played along with it. "It's true. So get out."

The pack of guys left, disgruntled and mumbling about how "stupid a cappella is anyways."

The group of waiting students get escorted into the building, and everything after that went by smoothly. The Trebles gained a few great members, and Benji and Jesse thought that they finally had enough to challenge the Bellas.

They lose again, but the scores were a lot closer than they usually were.

* * *

Their third nationals had been a heated one. The guys were fired up and ready to beat the Bellas, but all Jesse thought about was, "hey, it's mine and Beca's second year anniversary. I better do something nice."

So, he managed to steal her away from the girls for a couple of hours that day. He took her around New York City and they played tourist for a bit, thoroughly awestruck when they spotted a Bellas billboard in Times Square. Beca got recognized a few times, which was exciting and unreal, with Jesse being the main photographer.

They eventually ended up in Central Park once the Bellas were finished practicing. While Beca was away, he managed to bundle up a few items to take with them to the iconic location, a gesture that he hoped would make her smile.

"What's this?" She asked, wearing the same confused expression on her face the last time she had said that phrase.

He smiled to himself and rolled out a hotel towel onto the grass before sitting on it. He took a few of the hotel's refreshments and other snacks out of his backpack and took his laptop out. "Pick a movie, any movie."

She squints at him, suspicious. " _Jaws, E.T.,_ and _The Breakfast Club?_ Why does this feel familiar?"

He gave her a cool shrug. "Well, they are some of the best scored and soundtracked movies of all time."

He grinned when he saw the realization spread on her face, a smile forming at the edges of her lips.

"Oh my God. You're _such_ a nerd," she laughed, giving him a sound kiss.

He pulled her into his lap and placed the laptop on hers, gesturing to the series of films in front of them. "What kind of nerdy boyfriend would I be if I didn't recreate our first date on our two-year anniversary?"

"Um, that wasn't our first date?"

"Aw, just work with me here."

She shrugs against his chest. "I'm just saying. I remember our first actual date, which explains why I didn't get your references at first. I remember us ordering almost everything on the menu of that tiny diner across from your dad's deli and almost passing out at the smell of their weird bacon."

"You'd think a place across a deli would have good bacon."

She laughed and sat up a little to give him another kiss, this one longer and a little more than handsy. "Thank you for this, Jesse," she paused to kiss him again, smiling even after he pulled away. "I pick _The Breakfast Club._ "

* * *

At Lincoln Center, Jesse couldn't really concentrate on anything because his mind was reeling. First of all, he and Beca had just had amazing sex in some random room backstage. Second, the Bellas went up first that year, and watching from the wings was really messing with his head (there was something about the way their performance looked awesome at every angle imaginable). Third, the stunt (er, magic trick) the Trebles were about to pull on stage could get someone killed, and that was _slightly_ worrisome.

Luckily, Benji's magic worked and it only surged the adrenaline flowing through his veins as he sung his heart out on stage.

However, there was really nothing like performing directly in front of your girlfriend, singing for her while she gave you smoldering looks across the way as her own version of those silly lovestruck eyes. He loves her, and she loves him, and trophies weren't really on their minds at the moment.

(Except, well, when the Bellas are announced as national champions for the third year in a row.)

(But it only lasted a heartbeat.)

It was really mind numbing how that one moment on stage made him feel invincible, and he was sure it'd never go away.

* * *

He was wrong about that feeling.

He was expecting to close out his college career at Barden on a strong note.

And it did.

The Barden Treblemakers finally won their trophy after three long years of losing it to the Bellas.

It was a hollow victory to him. The boys are ecstatic and going nuts over their giant trophy and the fact that they got to choose the audition song for next year. Hell, Benji wouldn't stop _crying_.

He loves his group, but still, the win didn't feel nearly as good as it should've felt.

Not when they won _without_ the Bellas even in the competition.

So, yeah, they won without any real competition.

Of course they won. They've _been_ winning ever since the Bellas got kicked out of the collegiate league.

Yet, that wasn't the real reason why Jesse felt off inside.

It was because Beca wasn't there. It was weird not having someone to make silly little lovestruck eyes at for the whole world to watch. It was weird not having her there to sing to.

Lincoln Center felt empty without her.

Sure, the trophy was satisfying. Sure, he was _finally_ a national champion. Sure, he had finally achieved it all with his a ca family.

But he'd rather have Beca.

* * *

Hope you liked the quick little drabble I managed to churn out over a few hours. This piece goes with Jeca Appreciation Week on Tumblr, to Day Six: Location (which was Lincoln Center, if it wasn't obvious). Follow me on there (becasjesse) to see the Jeca love!


	7. the curse that falls on young lovers

Prompt: Beca and Jesse have to dress up. One of them has to be coerced into it.

* * *

 **(be careful of) the curse that falls on young lovers**

They're stacking CDs at the radio station. Beca's busy daydreaming up ways of stealing an old Amy Winehouse record when Jesse makes his way to the shelf across her, his head peeping through the gaps.

"Are you doing anything for Halloween?" He asks suddenly, staring at her with genuine interest.

She snaps out of her daydream, silently cursing him for interrupting her evil plot-making. "What?"

"Halloween. Do you have any plans?"

She pauses to think a little. The Bellas have invited her to a Halloween party, and she quite honestly doesn't want to go. It's been two months into the semester and a little over three weeks since she joined the Bellas, and she wasn't so sure about hanging out with them all outside of practice. She likes them enough to tolerate them in practice, but Beca's just not into the party scene. Call her a boring old lady, but she'd rather stay in her dorm than dress in a costume and drink her night away.

"There's a party that the Bellas are all going to, but I don't think I'm going," she replies, shrugging off Jesse's gawking.

"Aww, why not?!"

"Not my thing- celebrating Halloween, I mean."

"Oh right, I forgot that you're allergic to everything fun."

She glares at his smug face. "Why, what are _you_ doing?"

"I'm going to the party and then I promised Benji I'd go trick-or treating with him."

Beca's heart twitches ever-so-slightly. Sure, she's only been there for two months, but already Benji has became one of her favorite people. She feels for the guy for being rejected from the Trebles, and Jesse's kindness for his roommate was one of the only redeeming qualities he had going for him.

(Well, other than that amazing voice and kinda-attractive face.)

(Oh, come on, Beca wasn't blind. Or deaf, for that matter.)

"That's oddly sweet of you," she admits reluctantly, avoiding his reaction by focusing on the stack of vinyls in front of her.

"Is that a surprise to you?"

Her eyes roll. "Yes, because you're an annoying weirdo most of the time."

"That's mean," he frowns. "Okay, well hypothetically speaking, if you were to dress up for Halloween, what would you be?"

She shrugs. "I dunno."

"Okay, let's narrow it down. If Benji's Luke, and I'm Han, then you'd be..."

She proceeds with caution. "...Darth Vader?"

He groans, making her grin. "No! Princess Leia. That would make you Princess Leia."

She snorts. "Yeah, in your dreams."

"I said hypothetically, Beca. But you _do_ speak the truth."

"I always do," she says bluntly, moving towards the stack of CDs waiting for her in the cart. "Sorry, but _Star Wars_ is pretty lame. I'm not subjecting myself to that kind of geekfest."

"First of all, I'm offended. Star Wars is awesome," he argues.

She rolls her eyes.

"Second of all, this is all, hypothetically speaking, for Benji."

"Yeah, well, as much as I like Benji, I still wouldn't. I have a reputation to uphold."

He eyes her suspiciously. "No offense, Beca, but we aren't exactly at the top of the social latter, being in a cappella groups and all."

She scowls. "Okay, but I'd like to keep whatever ounce of dignity I have left."

* * *

The next day, the radio station is suspiciously quiet throughout her shift. Jesse's hunched over the desk, organizing CDs into their respective genres. By this point, Beca's used to his babbling and occasional humming, so it was odd to hear nothing but the radio music playing against the background.

By the time their shift ends, she manages to catch him on his way out. She nudges him with her elbow, offering a reluctant smile when he's caught off-guard.

"Hey, weirdo. Are you okay? You've been eerily quiet this shift."

He shrugs, eyes flickering to the small brunette. "Yeah, I'm fine," he says, but Beca's unconvinced.

He was acting a bit squirrelly, now that she thinks about it. His pace quickens with every step, only getting more and more difficult for her to keep in step with her short legs. She eventually pulls on his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Dude, just tell me," she heaves, finally letting her breath catch up with her.

"You won't be happy," he warns.

She bites the inside of her cheek, eying him curiously. "Oh, great. Just spit it out."

They take a seat on a street bench. "You know my hypothetical theory yesterday?"

She nods.

"So I might have _jokingly_ mentioned it to Benji and now-"

"Now he wants to do it," she fills in for him, groaning as she finished her sentence. "Jesse, you weren't supposed to do that, you dumbass!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think he would take me seriously."

"Are you kidding me? Of course he'd take it seriously, he's _Benji_. You of all people should know that by now," she reaches and pinches his upper arm, making him yelp in pain.

"I said I was sorry! For the record, I still think it's an awesome idea."

"No."

"Aw, c'mon."

"No."

"Fine. I'll talk to Benji about it."

* * *

Benji ends up running into Beca later that day. She's on the quad when he bounds up to her, wearing his usual cheeky smile.

"Hi, Beca!"

"Hey, Benji. What's up?"

"I'm really excited about Halloween. I've always wanted to have a Han Solo and Leia Organa to my Luke Skywalker!" He grins. "I've been Luke for the past ten years but now that I have you two as friends, we complete the trio! How great is that?!"

She forces a toothy grin, clenching her jaw tightly. "Um, yeah. Yup."

His face falls upon seeing her reaction. "Do you want to do this, Beca? You really don't have to if you're uncomfortable with it. I understand."

She's disheartened at the thought of ruining poor Benji's excitement, but she's also grateful for his understanding. "I don't know, Benj. How about a compromise instead?"

* * *

And that's how she gets roped into dressing up for Halloween.

She shows up at the party wearing cat ears over her halo braid and whiskers painted on her cheeks. She's wearing a tight crop top and leggings, both in white, hoping she passes as a cat instead of Princess Leia.

(Hey, if she's going to dress up like a nerd, she ought to slut it up on the only acceptable day of the year.)

(You know, for the sake of her reputation.)

She has a couple of drinks with the girls, who compliment her costume by slapping her ass or pinching the exposed bit of skin on her stomach. She doesn't see Jesse until around an hour into the party. By this time, she's bored, and seeing him came a relief to her. He approaches her, and Beca can't help the sly grin when she sees his eyes roam her body.

"Beca, hey!" He sputters, the smell of booze clinging faintly to his lips. "You look great."

"Thanks," she says curtly. "You don't look as great as Harrison Ford, but you're close."

He rolls his eyes playfully at her. "Thanks, I guess. Although, this room is getting pretty hot and crowded. I'm about ready to leave, if you are."

She looks around quickly, making sure the Bellas were too distracted to notice her escape. "I mean, we have another hour until we meet up with Benji. But we can leave, this place is boring me anyways."

He offers his hand, which she takes gingerly, and together they leave the crowded room. Beca doesn't miss the way Aubrey catches her eye on the way out, the blonde's death glare seeping into where Jesse and Beca's hands were linked.

She snickers to herself. Aubrey really needs to get laid.

They walk, side-by-side, around the quad. She can't really see him in the darkness, but she's strangely comfortable. "Did you have fun at the party?"

"Yeah, up until people started doing body shots off of Bumper. It was not a pretty sight," he shivers. "What about you?"

"It was okay. Like I said, Halloween's not really my thing," she shrugs. She's fully aware of their fingers still laced together, but she chooses not to say anything about it to avoid the awkwardness. Maybe it's the alcohol in her system, but then again, she didn't have enough to drink to make her feel the usual warmth in her chest. It was a different kind of warmth, not something she could place her finger on.

She shakes off the thought. "I can't believe you and Benji managed to rope me into this."

"You could've said no."

"Who can say no to Benji?" She chuckles. "He's a sweet kid, I don't mind."

"Yeah," he agrees quietly. "You know, Beca, in a galaxy far, far away, we would be married."

"What?"

"Han and Leia."

"Are you forgetting that I haven't actually seen _Star Wars?"_

He fake gasps, clutching a hand over his heart. "I choose not to remember that."

"Yeah, well, in this galaxy, we're not married. Sorry to crush your spirit."

"You're a mystery, Beca Mitchell," he hums. "Well, I'll go and call Benji to tell him we're early."

* * *

Benji ends up with the heaviest bag of candy. Beca, sans cat ears and whiskers, decides to accept the boys' offer to watch a movie for the remainder of the night. They watch the classic _Hocus Pocus_ , which Beca happens to actually like. About two-thirds into the movie, Benji crashes from his sugar rush. Beca and Jesse are left alone, sitting against the frame of his bed, hands picking at the leftover popcorn and m&m's remains. Her mind is a bit fuzzy from the booze that Jesse's managed to sneak into his dorm, and he's equally buzzed.

The movie ends, and Beca may or may not be sniffling over Binx's "death." Jesse offers to bring Beca home, even though Beca can see the dull of sleepiness in his eyes. She lets him, even after she insists that she can go by herself. They take the short walk across dorm buildings, quietly taking in the strange tranquility that the moon has to offer.

"Thanks," she breathes once they get to her door. "I didn't think I'd have a good time, but I did. So, yeah, thanks for that."

He shrugs. "It's not a problem. I'm glad you decided to hang out with us, even if we are big nerds." He air quotes 'nerds,' grinning when she shakes her head in disdain.

"For the record, you _are_ big nerds."

"Says the woman wearing a Princess Leia costume, which is wildly inaccurate, by the way. She would never wear a crop top."

"You make no sense," she shakes her head, laughing softly. "In this galaxy, she does."

"I'm not complaining," he says boldly, smirking. "It's a good look."

She fights the blush from rushing to her cheeks. "Twenty-first century Han Solo isn't a bad look, either."

"That's one hell of a compliment coming from the girl who said Harrison Ford looks better than me."

She grins, smacking his chest lightly. "Goodbye, Jesse."

He lingers for awhile, when Beca doesn't make the move to open her door. They're left standing there, staring at each other with a sleepy twinkle in their eyes. The space between them shrinks, and suddenly his face was only centimeters away from hers. Her breaths are uneven when finally, she decides to close the space between them, taking his lips with hers. The kiss is chaste and gentle, and it lasts only for a few moments before she pulls away, her mind buzzing and her heart beating rapidly in her chest. He's equally trying to grasp what's just happened, she takes from the size of his dilated pupils.

Somehow, his hand has made it to her waist, pulling the two closer as he goes in for another kiss, this one longer and hungrier than the first. She pulls away after sucking his bottom lip softly, looking into his eyes as she lets go.

Maybe this time it was really the alcohol playing with her actions.

(She's probably going to regret this in the morning, but a part of her hopes she won't.)

"Afraid I was gonna leave you without a goodbye kiss?" He jokes all-too casually. Still, she can see his nerves begin to take over.

"Is that a _Star Wars_ reference or something?" She says, breathless, her arms resting on his shoulders for comfort.

He nods wordlessly. "I'm proud you caught that one."

She shakes her head, letting him peck her lips one last time. "You should go and get some sleep."

He blinks back dreamily, a little smile on his face. "Okay."

* * *

 **A/N-**

 **Do you guys see a pattern here?**

 **Are you all tired of the Star Wars references? Because I can stop- it's up to you guys. Anyways, hope you enjoyed!**


	8. talk me down pt 1

**talk me down**

 **pt.1:** **so if you don't mind, i'll walk that line**

Beca and Jesse have three different fighting styles.

The first is the "I'm mad at you but not really in an angry way but more like I'm going to complain until you're fed up" style. They're silly and petty, usually over something trivial like dinner plans or movie selections.

* * *

They typically look a little something like this:

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Jesse groans. "Why not?"

"Jesse," Beca says slowly, exasperated. "Are you seriously asking me why not?"

He nods.

"Because I'm not spending $350 on a fucking glider hoverboard."

"But Be-caw," he pouts. "It'll be like in _Back to the Future_!"

"I don't fucking care."

A week later, Jesse's spinning circles around Beca's body on his noise-free glider.

Beca doesn't speak to him for a whole day, instead opting to cooly ignore him while they were out studying on the quad.

That is, until he manages to lose his balance and nearly face plants into the pavement.

And ten minutes later, she's still laughing uncontrollably at his mediocre attempts at wooing her.

* * *

Sometimes, they go like this:

"Jesse, baby," Beca says sweetly, batting her lashes into Jesse's disturbed face.

He's only mildly concerned. "Er, what?"

"Hand me the remote, won't ya?" She smiles cutely, eye crinkles and everything.

He could say yes, but _Napoleon Dynamite_ was on next, and he hasn't seen that movie since he was thirteen. So, naturally, he _needs_ to watch it.

"You're cute," he grins, pinching her cheek stiffly. "But no."

She groans in frustration. "Please? There's a new episode of _Kitchen Nightmares_ and you _know_ Gordon Ramsay's ape-shit rage turns me on."

"Aren't you hilarious? No." He hides the remote somewhere Beca can't see, much to her dislike.

When _Napoleon Dynamite_ finally starts, Beca won't shut up.

"This movie sucks."

"Honestly, what the hell is this?"

"This is stupid."

Sure, her commentary gets old (and, dare he say, downright annoying), but there's a part of him that sort of agrees with her. What was once called brilliant in his middle school days, was now called dull and, well, middle-school humor.

Nonetheless, he wasn't going to fork over the remote that easily.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to," he says gruffly, his eyes narrowed as Beca continued spewing more insults at the film. "Just saying."

She stares at him blankly. "Okay."

She gets up from her spot wedged between him and the couch and promptly leaves.

He sticks it out the entire movie, feeling a little bit smug but also a little bit bad. Maybe his stubbornness needed to tone down a notch.

So he pulls out his phone and texts her, "Fine. I'll admit it. The movie was terrible."

And fifteen minutes later, she's back in her spot in his dorm room, gloating over her victory as they watch Gordon Ramsay lose his shit.

* * *

Hell, they had silly little fights before they even became a couple:

They're at the dining hall in the morning for breakfast. They usually get there at the same time and get the same thing, a mini package of Frosted Flakes, and then they have a casual breakfast together before heading off to their first classes of the day.

This day was different.

There was only one package of Frosted Flakes.

Jesse seems to spot this first, quickly speeding up next to a confused, groggy Beca. She squints at the shelf of cereals, suddenly realizing his motivation, and almost breaks out into a sprint in order to get it first.

"Those Frosted Flakes are mine, nerd!" She screeches, nearly colliding into another student.

He swiftly dodges incoming students, his eyes dead set on the shelf of cereals. "Nope, Tony the Tiger is calling my name."

She tries to shove him to her side, but she's too tiny to do any real damage, as strong as she is in that compact body, and he ends up at the shelf just a second before her. He grabs the package and holds it high over his head, snickering at her attempts to snatch it from him.

"Seriously?!"

"Yes."

"Give it!"

"No?"

"Jesse!"

"Beca."

"Fork over the Frosted Flakes, Swanson!"

"Finders keepers, losers weepers!"

She glares at him, still jumping at the cereal. "Are you an actual toddler?"

"No, but you look like one," he retorts, amused at her measly attempts to grab the package.

"Screw you," she grumbles.

He moves away, still amused, but decides to pick up a bottle of milk for her. She's grimacing when she grabs the Raisin Bran, and she stubbornly takes Jesse's pity milk. They pay for their items and instinctively sit at their usual table.

"That was an asshole move."

"All's fair in love and war," he reasons, maybe a little too smugly for her tastes.

"You're at an advantage," she complains, grudgingly pouring the milk over her cereal. "You have longer legs and arms. It's not fair."

"It's not my fault I have perfect physique."

She scowls.

He feels bad about his behavior and buys her a family-sized box of Frosted Flakes later that day, complete with wrapping paper and a bow.

* * *

These kind of fights, as shown, don't last very long.

* * *

 **A/N-**

 **I've gotten a few prompts asking for Beca and Jesse to get into a fight, so I thought I'd tie all of them into one little three-part. The next one will be up in a couple of days. None of these fights are chronological, just to get that out there. I had a hard time coming up with some argument ideas, so reviews would be super encouraging and much appreciated!**


	9. talk me down pt 2

**talk me down**

 **pt. 2: i wanna sleep next to you**

* * *

The second style is the "I can't deal with you get out of my face" kind of fight. They go a little something like this:

* * *

Moving in was a natural progression.

When the lease is up at his apartment, Beca asks him to move in with her. It's the least she could do. It's not like it was weird or new or anything- Jesse already has a toothbrush and a drawer filled with his boxers and hoodies at her place, and he always leaves his favorite mug at her place, anyways. It's not a huge deal.

The first week or so living together is just them having amazing sex on their bed, or kitchen counter, or shower. For some reason, sharing things, even though it wasn't a new thing, turned them into raging, sex-crazed animals. It's fun calling it their bed, or kitchen, or shower, because, well, it's theirs.

 _Theirs._

Their bed. Their table. Their shower. Their fridge. Their couch. Their bathroom.

Their apartment.

Sharing wasn't a foreign concept. They've been together for far too long for it to be. It couldn't be that hard.

Well, that's what Beca thought.

Beca's screech, followed by a splash, is what wakes him up most nights. Then, there's the inevitable scream.

"JESSE!"

He'll come running to the bathroom, fully alert. He then finds her, ass plunged into the toilet, scowling.

His lips are twitching at the ends.

"How many _fucking_ times do I have to tell you to put the toilet seat down?!" She yells irritably. "This is disgusting."

He helps her up and lets her clean herself up, with his face twitching and mouth pinched together the whole time.

"It literally takes one push of the finger to put the toilet seat down, why is that so hard?!" She complains, glaring at him.

He's usually really good at holding it together while she's going at her murder spree. But this time, he can't help it; he bursts into laughter, ignoring Beca's fury.

"You think this is funny?" Her nostrils flare, eyes practically glowing in rage. "You think this is _funny_?"

He shakes his head, still getting his giggles out. She trudges out of the bathroom and sleeps on the far end of her side of the bed for the rest of the night.

* * *

From then on out, she starts to realize the little things he does that irk her.

The fact that he can never decide on what to have for dinner.

The fact that she keeps finding his DVDs _everywhere_ , and he's barely been there a month.

The fact that sometimes he uses her towel and when she goes to shower, her towel is all damp and gross.

The fact that he puts the toilet paper roll on the wrong way- It goes _over_ , not under.

The fact that he forgets to tell her that there's no milk until _after_ she pours the cereal into her bowl.

The fact that he never puts his dishes in the sink, and how, instead, he puts them _beside_ it.

(C'mon, it's not that hard to move them three inches to the left, dude.)

And then, there's, or course, the reoccurring fucking toilet seat.

* * *

It's no wonder she explodes eventually.

It's about the umpteenth time that month she's fallen into the toilet bowl, and she's just about had it.

"That's. It." She huffs after cleaning herself up. It's still early in the night. Jesse's situated on his side of the bed, watching a movie on his laptop. She stomps out angrily and stops in front of Jesse, who gives her a confused look.

"What?"

"The toilet seat."

The look of realization dawns his face, and Beca _almost_ feels bad for him. "Fuck, I'm sorry Becs. I promise it won't happen again."

"That's what you said last time," she scoffs, determined to hold her ground.

"Jeez, I'm sorry, okay? I swear I'll try to remember next time. You're overreacting," he counters, maybe sounding a little hostile.

She glares at him. "What? Overreacting? Me?"

He returns the glare, shutting the laptop angrily. "Yes, you."

She scowls. "You're such a dick."

"I'm being the dick?"

"God, you're so fucking annoying," she lets out an exasperated groan, feeling the rage boil in her blood. "You have the worst homely habits _ever_. It drives me god damn insane."

He gets up from his spot, and suddenly he's towering over her. "Are you being serious right now?"

"Yes!" She snaps. "Your stuff is everywhere. You never put the dishes in the sink. You're indecisive as hell when it comes to eating. You never put the toilet seat down. The list goes on!"

"If you're so annoyed of me living here, why'd you ask me to move in then?" He challenges.

She shrinks under his gaze, but she's not willing to give up so easily. "That's not the point."

He scoffs. "Okay then, Beca. I'll give you your fucking space."

And with that, he takes a pillow and a fleece throw and marches out of their room, slamming the door behind him.

She's left looking at the door, shaking with anger. She's sure her face is red, and instead of going after him, she shuts the lights off and lies down on their bed, eyes towards the ceiling, her heart going a mile a minute.

* * *

The bed is cold without him.

She tosses and turns on the sheets, struggling to find a comfortable position. She's still pissed, but her anger gradually simmers down. It's one in the morning, about two hours since their clash, and she's left with a gross, guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Sure, all of his habits were, justifiably, annoying.

But maybe she should've talked to him about it, instead of, you know, imploding in front of him.

It's just that, discussing things like an actual, rational adult was scary. Beca's much better at using a sword than her words.

Consequently, she can't sleep. She's tired as hell, but she still can't seem to fall into the dream wasteland. As much as she doesn't want to admit, she's gotten used to Jesse at her side at night. She finds comfort in falling asleep with the soft thump of his heartbeat against her back.

At this point, it's her own annoying habit.

She sucks up her pride, wraps herself up in her duvet, and peeks out the hallway. She tiptoes into the living room, relieved to see him snoozing away on the couch with the pillow and throw he snatched earlier. She bites her lip, questioning her actions by cursing herself a billion different things in her mind. She groans to herself and grudgingly scampers to his side, snugly fitting at the edge of the couch. She closes her eyes, drapes the duvet over their bodies, and attempts to sleep.

He stirs, feeling the small of her back push against his. He awakens almost immediately, being the light sleeper that he is, and sits up from his spot, rubbing his eyes, blearily looking at Beca's tiny form.

"What the..."

"Shh," she shushes, resting uncomfortably at the edge of the couch. "Don't you dare say anything."

He falls back asleep with a smug smile on his face.

* * *

 **A/N- This was a prompt sent in by the lovely youandmetryingtofindthelight on Tumblr.**


	10. talk me down pt 3

**talk me down**

 **pt. 3: i wanna come home to you [1/2]**

* * *

And finally, there's the "psychologically damaging" fight.

This fight is very rare for them. It's happened only a few times, the most notable being in their third year at Barden:

* * *

The girls start noticing something very, very wrong with Beca the moment she steps into practice.

She's practically bristling with anger the whole time, letting Chloe take over for the entire practice session. Beca's not always a happy camper during Bellas rehearsal, but she's never been this livid before.

It's scary.

This goes on for the past couple of days. It's definitely confusing- especially since she refused to talk to anybody about whatever was pissing her off. But with WBUJ always playing in the house, the girls slowly, but surely, begin to piece it all together.

For the past week, the Bella house has been vibrating with songs by people screaming and cursing, backed up with earsplitting guitar solos. People were beginning to wonder if WBUJ was being run by a bunch of emo middle schoolers.

Apparently, Beca's rage even goes as far as passive aggressively dedicating _certain_ songs to a _certain_ person. And these song choices were not exactly pleasing to hear or hard figure out.

Angry Beca was never fun. She pushed for harder workouts and she snapped at every little thing. Plus, she managed to kick Fat Amy out of their own room- and Amy's never a pushover. In fact, Amy even admits that she's scared of Beca's steamroller of rage. All of the Bellas were.

Chloe finally calls for an emergency Bella meeting _without_ Beca. She's had just about the last straw when Eamon's "Fuck It" blares out the speakers for the twentieth time that week, and she's determined to put an end to this.

"Ladies, we have a problem with Beca," she begins, promptly scanning the girls' faces for any sign of confusion. "She's exhibiting all signs of post-dramatic breakup syndrome, and we need to do something about it before she drives even _me_ insane."

The girls murmur their agreement.

"I think it's traumatic, Chlo," Ashley points out. "But I agree. What should we do?"

"Yeah, what could we even do? Hook her up with a hot dad?" Everyone shows their disapproval of Amy's idea with a frown.

"No, Ames. We all know Beca is crazy in love with Jesse, even if she won't admit it. And Jesse's crazy for Beca."

"Are we sure? Her music choices lately say otherwise."

"Give her a break, she's going through her angry breakup stage right now. It'll be all sad Adele and Sam Smith songs for the next month if we don't do anything about it."

"I don't think this is a good idea, you know, the whole butting into their business thing. Shouldn't we let them figure out whatever they're fighting about themselves?" Cynthia-Rose tries, but the girls shake their heads.

"They're both stubborn. It'll never end unless we butt into it. It's practically our job as her very best friends," Chloe sighs matter-of-factly. "Any ideas, ladies?"

"Chloe, are we sure we want to get involved?" Jessica asks, eyebrows knitted together in contemplation. "Maybe it was meant to be?"

Chloe gapes at her. "I refuse to believe that this is the end of Jesse and Beca. It's impossible. They're... They're Jesse and Beca."

The girls burst into hushed whispers amongst themselves. "It's entirely possible. How about we try to ask Beca what happened?"

"We couldn't get it out of her even if we tried," Amy shrugs. "She kicked me out of my own room, for Christ's sake."

"Hmm, how about we get it out of Jesse?"

Lilly squeaks her disagreement. "He's not talking, either. Donald told me."

Stacie groans. "So now what?"

* * *

The girl leaves Beca alone for another week. The music stays pretty the same, except for that Chloe was right; Beca's stuck in a few sad Adele and Sam Smith into WBUJ's daytime slots. They weren't sure butting in would be necessary, but then Chloe spots Beca wearing Jesse's Treble hoodie every night.

Yep, whatever it was, it was _definitely_ something bad. And Beca sure as hell wasn't over it.

Chloe's contemplates ambushing Beca in the shower again in order to get something out of the raging brunette, until a different opportunity arises. She's in the dining hall with Amy, yet again trying to swap the Bellas' dirty dishes with new ones, when they spot Benji quietly munching on a grilled cheese sandwich in the corner.

She nudges Amy, who immediately charges for him.

"Benji, how are you, mate?" Amy calls. The boy looks up from his food and lends them a welcoming smile.

"I'm good. What about you two?"

"See, Benji, that's the problem. We're not."

He's a little confused, but shrugs it off. "Um, may I ask why?"

Amy pulls a seat out from the table and sits across him, her elbows propping her head up. Chloe goes along with it hesitantly, unsure of what Amy's next action would be.

"Beca kicked me out of our own room, so now I'm crashing in Chloe's for the time being," Amy sighs dramatically. "And it's no fun. Chloe here is a snorer."

"Hey, you're not allowed to say that in public!"

Amy rolls her eyes. "See, no fun at all."

"Oh," Benji chews on his lip, unsure of how to react. "So Beca kicked you out?"

She nods solemnly. "I heard that she and Jesse are going through something."

Benji drops his head towards his empty plate, desperately trying to find something distracting. Amy clears her throat loudly, rubbing her hands together darkly.

"Do you know anything about this?"

He raises his head reluctantly. "Um, er, sort of. Jesse's been pretty sad lately."

"Has he told you anything?" Chloe pushes, and she swears she can physically see him break into hives.

"No, uh, he hasn't."

Amy slams a hand on the table threateningly, making him jump. "Are you sure? Tell me the truth so that I can sleep in my own bloody bed again!"

"I am! He hasn't said anything. But Beca has," he says in a small voice, nearly jumping out of his skin at her demand.

The girls lean in, as if they were about to hear secret information. "Go on," the redhead urges.

"It's... They fought about the Bellas."

Amy and Chloe exchange a bewildered look. "What?"

"He said that she never finds the time to hang out with him- says she's always with you girls. She denied it, he got hurt, she fought him, he fought back, and now they won't speak to each other."

"That's it? That's what this whole blow-up is about?"

Benji nods. "She likes to rant to me."

Chloe will admit that she's a little hurt that Beca wouldn't go to the girls to rant, but at the same time, she can't blame her. Nationals was upon them and Beca really was with the girls 24/7- Not that it was a bad thing, unless, you know, you're Jesse apparently.

"Um, so is this the end of them? I don't want to believe it, but it's been the longest they've gone without speaking to each other," Chloe asks, sighing at the end.

"I don't think so... They're just going through a rough patch. They just need to apologize to each other and rationalize a bit. Jesse won't stop watching _The Breakfast Club._ "

"And Beca's been wearing out that Treble hoodie of his," Amy points out.

"This calls for an intervention."

* * *

 **A/N-**

 **Somehow this three-shot turned into a three-shot with a part two attached to the third piece... Confusing, I know. I didn't really intend for it to go this way, but hey, it happened. I'll admit that it was pretty fun and refreshing writing in another person's view, let me know if I didn't fail completely lol.**

 **Sorry for not updating, it's been a hectic midterm season!**


	11. talk me down pt 3 point 5

**talk me down**

 **pt. 3: i wanna come home to you [2/2]**

* * *

She's miserable.

She's good at fighting, but that doesn't mean she feels so great about it. In fact, she's been feeling like complete and utter shit since Jesse confronted her.

It started when Jesse told her he was accepted into film school.

In Los Angeles.

Next year.

She had mixed feelings about this. A part of her was happy for him for pursuing his dream. Another part was just a tiny bit bitter, but mostly, she was upset at him for leaving.

It's selfish. She doesn't want him to go because– let's face it– it was her dream. _She_ was the one who was supposed to be living the dream in LA as a music producer, not him.

She stayed at Barden because of him and the girls. She stayed for _them_ , not really herself. She didn't mean to fall in love with stupid a cappella and her stupid, a cappella, puppy-eyed boyfriend. She's supposed to be making music, damn it, and _not_ with her mouth.

Yet, here she is, lamenting over all of this. She's jealous that he's leaving and she's pissed that she fell for him in the first place. Nobody can expect her to be ecstatic over someone that she loves leaving her for God-knows how long. He's not allowed to leave her with just the girls and Benji. She can't imagine the rest of college without him supporting her and loving her by her side.

Ugh, she wouldn't even be in this mess if she hadn't kissed him in Lincoln Center two years ago.

It sucks being bitter and angry and happy at the same time. So instead of addressing these feelings like a rational human being, she built her walls back up and avoided him, a very old school Beca thing of her to do.

Unlike her, however, Jesse's a rational (and observant) human being and demanded to know why she was avoiding him. It wasn't threatening at all, but Beca decided to make it that way, and, well, she blew up. Then he blew up. They both blew up about a lot of things, a lot of irrelevant, petty things. Next thing she knows, they're screaming at each other over stupid little things that she can't even remember and suddenly she's locked in her room for the next two weeks.

She goes outside to run the station, go to classes and practice, and to eat and use the bathroom. But other than that, she's gone as far as kicking Amy out of her own room (Dick move, she knows) in order to sulk alone. She manifests her feelings in her music, per usual, mostly through the WBUJ station radio. You know, so that everyone can feel her inner turmoil.

She misses him, but she's also mad at him, so she doesn't know what to do. She's too stubborn to apologize, likewise with him. They're great at fighting, in retrospect. They don't usually last this long, though, and frankly, Beca doesn't know how to handle it.

She tries with her music, but even that turns into sad Adele and Sam Smith. The best she could come up with is wearing his hoodie to at least pretend he was still around. But it's not enough. She misses having him by her side instead of locking herself in the radio station booth with him stacking CDs on the outside. It's stupid. Like, she can't even get halfway through _The Breakfast Club_ without crying. It's _that_ stupid.

It's lonely, the whole pushing everyone away kinda thing.

* * *

It's been a little over two and a half weeks since they fought. The girls have been stepping on eggshells around her, unsure of how to handle her emotions. Chloe and Amy try, but she shuts them out. She tells Benji some of it, because he's genuinely worried for her and his best friend (she twists the truth a little bit, telling him it was about the Bellas). She trusts him to understand. Plus, she feels better getting it off her chest.

But suddenly, even he gets all finicky around her. Not that he's usually squirmish, because he is, it's just that it's more than usual. The girls seem to ease up though– they're all very giggly and bubbly.

It's all very weird. And suspicious.

Nonetheless, she ignores whatever antics that they're going through and goes to work at the radio station. Jesse's the only one there, earbuds plugged in as he stacks CDs, clearly ignoring her. She heads straight to the booth, minding her own business for the next four hours.

She sneaks a peek at Jesse, who was soundly asleep on the desk, his cheek pressed against the hard laminate. She rolls her eyes and slams a pile of vinyls next to him, startling him awake. He glares at her, checks his watch, and gets up to leave. Beca's readying her things and shuts off the lights, nearly running into Jesse blind on her way out the door.

"Are you gonna leave?" She asks, eyes narrowed at him in the dimmed light.

"Um, about that," he sighs, exasperated. "The door isn't budging."

"What?" She shoves him out of the way and pushes the door as hard as she can, her teeth gritted when the door doesn't move. "It's not even locked."

"I know that," he retorts, joining her in pushing the door. They fail, and Beca slumps against the hard glass in defeat. "I'll try the emergency exit."

He leaves, but she finds herself trailing after him after being creeped out by all the darkness in the lonely radio station.

"Did you get it open?"

Jesse jiggles the doorknob, pulling at it as hard as he can before giving up. "It hasn't been used in forever, it's useless."

Panic arises in her chest. "Holy shi– holy fuck. This _cannot_ be happening."

Her first instinct is to call the police, but that seems a bit extreme, if she's gonna be honest. She considers breaking open a window, but before that, she tries to rationalize any other way of escape. She immediately dials Chloe, ignoring Jesse's rampant attempts at getting the doors to open.

She tells the redhead their situation. Chloe assures her that help is on the way, and it gives Beca a little comfort. Still, she can't help the panic from overcoming her entire body. She takes a seat on one of the raggedy old couches, burying her face into her hands to calm herself down. Her heart is racing, and she suddenly feels lightheaded.

Apparently, she was shaking, and Jesse seems to have noticed. "Becs? Are you okay?"

She looks up to see him approaching her worriedly, crouching in front of her bent form. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Chloe's dealing with it, it's okay."

She can tell that he's not very convinced by the way he was looking at her. His eyes are full of concern, and he's reaching out to clasp his hands with hers. The gesture helps a little– it's comforting, having their hands locked together. He quietly moves beside her on the couch, moving his arms to wrap around her shoulders, letting her lean into him.

They stay like that for awhile– just sitting in silence, her wrapped in his arms, his hand caressing her shoulder.

She hates that it feels so good, so right. It's ridiculous that she feels this way. It's like Jesse's a magnet or some shit, and after feeling so alone for the past two weeks, it feels so good being back to his side.

The moment lasts for a good ten minutes, but of course, he has to ruin it.

"Beca, we need to talk."

She uncomfortably shifts from his hold, turning to face him. "Okay."

"I'm sorry I blew up. It wasn't okay."

"Yeah."

He sighs impatiently. "Yeah? Just a 'yeah'?"

"What do you want me to say?" She challenges, maybe a little too boldly. He scoots away from her, clearly hurt.

His eyebrows knit together, huffing frustratedly. "I don't know. Maybe an apology?"

"For what?"

He groans in frustration. "C'mon, Becs. Don't be like this."

"Like what?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Beca! Why are you acting like this? If you want to break up, just _say_ it. Own up, we're fucking adults!"

She's starting to get red in the face now, her blood boiling already. "Own up? Alright," she says calmly, her jaw clenched in anger. "I'm scared, okay? I'm terrified. I'm fucking terrified. There, I'm _sorry!"_

A part of her is shocked and sad to hear that he was actually challenging her to break up with him, but mostly, she's pissed.

His face softens a little, but she can tell he's not about to back down. " _You're_ terrified? How are you terrified?! I'm the one leaving to uncharted territory!"

"That's the fucking thing, Jesse! You're leaving," she snaps bitterly. "You're leaving to follow your dreams and I'm here sulking over the fact that I won't be. I'm useless. I failed. Of course I'm terrified, asshole. I don't know what I'm doing with my fucking life!"

She doesn't realize the hot tears stinging her eyes were running down her cheeks until now, when Jesse's wiping them away with the pads of his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, okay? Are you happy? Are you happy now?"

He hushes her gently, scooting back to her side and taking her back into his arms. She's stiff, still fighting to let him in. "No, I'm not. Is this what this was about? Beca," he sighs, rubbing her temples gently. "Beca..."

"Stop," she says heavily. "Jesse, stop."

He does what he's told, not wanting to push her. "I'm sorry."

"See, that's the problem. You shouldn't be sorry, for fuck's sake. At least, not for this. You said some shitty things, but you shouldn't be sorry about me being a selfish asshole," Beca mumbles, avoiding his gaze. "I'm so fucking scared. I don't know what I'm doing. I should've left for LA when I had the chance."

He nods sympathetically, waiting for her to go on.

"I avoided you because I– I almost regret this all. I regret Barden. I regret the Bellas. I regret trusting my dad. I regret," she swallows hard, "I regret falling in love. I don't deserve any of it. Life would be so much more simple if I just left after high school and started my career the way I wanted it to. You going to LA... It was my dream for so long, and after forgetting about it for the few years being here, it's just– It's just that it hit me, you know? My life wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Can I talk for a second?" He asks calmly, waiting for her to nod. "Beca, it's okay. Who ever let you believe that your life wasn't supposed to be this way– filled with love and support and people who care about you? Who let you believe this? It's going to be okay, Becs. You deserve all of it. I promise you."

He's still angry, but it's different now. Beca can't quite place her finger on it. It's in the way his voice cracked and in the way the veins on his neck were pulsing out of his skin. He's fierce and determined– It's not like before. He's not angry at her anymore.

It makes her feel better.

"How are you so sure?" She asks, this time her voice has a twinge of vulnerability. It's strange how her emotions worked.

"I don't know, Becs. I just know that you are talented, and smart, and above all, you're Beca Mitchell. You're amazing. You deserve all of the love and support you have, and I'm sorry that you don't realize that. But I hope you do soon," he says tenderly, tilting her chin to meet her gaze. "I love you, and we can continue working on this. Everything is going to be okay. _I promise_."

She wipes away whatever dignity she has left from her eyes, letting out a shuddery sigh. "Thank you. I missed you so much," she admits. "Do you still want to break up or..?"

His eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets, and she almost laughs at the sight, but she holds it in for the sake of keeping the angst. "No! Never," he exclaims, lifting her in his lap. She instinctively straddles his waist. "I missed you, too. I watched _The Breakfast Club_ every night for the past two weeks."

"Oh, I was hoping you'd get my messages through the radio."

"I got them."

He offers her a shy smile, finally leaning in to kiss her on the lips. She gratefully takes him, relishing the soft feel against hers. It's silly, but whatever weight she was bearing for the past two weeks immediately disappeared in that moment. The feel of his lips on hers again was enough to lift her mood alone.

It's ridiculous– the way he makes her feel.

* * *

To: Chloe

From: Beca

 _"Hurry the fuck up. The radio station is scary at night."_

Chloe and the girls study the text carefully. They're all crowded around the couch, analyzing the text critically.

"Do you think it worked?"

"Is that a happy or annoyed 'fuck'?"

"Any clues of a make-up?"

"I don't know, ladies. What's the general consensus?"

"I mean, maybe she just wants to get back home?"

"Yeah, okay, but does she want to get home because it's scary at the radio station or because being locked up with Jesse is too much to handle?"

"Could be both."

"Could be the former."

Chloe frowns, unsure of what to reply to the brunette. The whole point in locking the two up was to get them back together, and Beca's vague text was not helping with confirming a mission success.

She hums in deep thought before typing out a reply.

To: Beca

From: Chloe

 _"What if I told you that I can't guarantee anything until the morning?"_

Beca's reply comes about a minute later, rather slow in text-time. She takes that as a good thing. Or maybe it was bad?

To: Chloe

From: Beca

 _"Omg can you just hurry up and get me and Jesse out of here._ _"_

The girls stare at the response in shock.

"She said his _name_."

"They definitely got back together."

"This calls for a celebration!"

"Pass me the booze!"

"I get my bloody room back! FUCK YES!"

"Do you think they did it in the radio station? That would be hot."

"Stacie, that's... Not the point."

"So, mission accomplished?"

Chloe nods reluctantly, receiving a rousing round of applause from her troops. "I don't think we can say definitely, but we can assume. If we happen to be wrong, we'll just have to go back to the drawing board and start all over."

The ladies groan simultaneously, which Chloe ignores. "Alright, Lilly. We need you to get them out, now. I'll come with."

* * *

Chloe can't help the grin on her face when she sees Beca and Jesse standing closely together through the window of the radio station. Turns out, Lilly's weird habit of locking people inside buildings came into great use. Truly, Lilly's mastermind skills are the real winners here.

Lilly unbudges the door effortlessly and pushes it open. The seemingly happy couple thanks them immediately and Beca locks the building this time, noticing Chloe's cheshire cat-like smile the whole way home.

"Wait the fuck up, you planned this shit, didn't you?!" She screams, sounding impossibly loud in the darkness of Barden's campus.

Jesse, who's at Beca's side, looks at the three Bellas in disbelief. "Becs, what are you insinuating here?"

"They did it on purpose! They locked us in the radio station on purpose! That's why they've been so ho-hum! You _bitches_!" She yells, making Lilly and Chloe run for their lives back to the Bella house. "Look at those cowards! They so did it! What the FUCK."

"Thanks girls!" Jesse calls after them, snickering as Beca curses the whole way to the Trebles house.

* * *

 **A/N-**

 **That's all of "talk me down!" Hope you guys liked it! I know I said I wasn't updating this until next week but some of you sent me some really sweet messages and it totally motivated me to finish it. Thank you, you lovely people.**

 **Next up might possibly get the M-rating** **–** **I'm not sure yet. I'll keep you posted on my profile, per usual. It may or may not be for a mystery project, so it might be posted as a separate story from the "Let's Go to the Movies" series. So, look out for that.**

 **All I'll tell you right now is that it involves lifeguard!Jesse ;-)**


	12. ten-sentence drabbles: pt 1

**ten-sentence drabbles: part one**

To make up for the lack of updates, I decided to ask you guys on Tumblr to send me in lines or a word for me to write a ten-sentence mini-fic on. These are some that I've written (based on lines/quotes. Word-based ones will come later, but if you want to read them now, check my Tumblr page) thus far. I've got a ton more to write, so stay tuned and check my blog for more parts xx

* * *

 ** _"For my part I know nothing with any certainty but the sight of the stars makes me dream"_**

Beca never thought the two would get to this point— laying in the back of her truck, watching airplanes soar into the night and the stars flicker on the rooftop of a parking garage near LAX. Jesse's holding her in his arms, humming along to whatever pop hit was on the radio, his fingers threading through her hair. She's warm and safe and, most importantly, she's _happy_. She's happy that she's there, in LA, with him— that they're both pursuing their dreams. It seems all too perfect, really, how they end up like this.

"I'm surprised you haven't brought up how rom-com this is," he muses, taking in the way she rolls her eyes at him.

She lingers on the question for a bit, contemplating its meaning. "I think I'm okay with it."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

* * *

 _ **"Sunday morning rain is falling, steal some covers share some skin"**_

 _(Note:_ _This line is pretty reminiscent of my fic/chapter, everything's the same (when the rain comes down). This is a "sequel" of sorts, if you don't mind ;-)_

The thing about sharing a place— specifically, a bed— with Jesse, is that he is impossibly, entirely too cheerful in the mornings.

He's up by six-thirty on weekdays and seven-thirty on weekends. She'll wake up to the smell of burnt toast and the sound of Jesse singing to their cat. Sure, it's adorable for a while, but over time, she finds that she just wants to sleep in peace until noon.

So it's a surprise when she wakes up one rainy morning, at precisely ten o'clock, and his warm skin is still on hers. Pippin is snoring at the foot of their bed, his tail tickling the arch of Beca's foot, and Jesse is still cuddled around her petite frame. _Maybe it's a dream_ , she thinks to herself. Everything is much too quiet and blissful for it to not be.

But then he pulls her closer, kisses her neck, and mumbles something sweet into her ear, something special for her ears only; that's when she decides that it definitely not a dream.

And she's happy that it isn't.

* * *

 _ **"When you hear my voice, when you say my name, may it never bring you pain."**_

Jesse's never seen her cry.

Beca's strong-willed, feisty, stubborn. She tells him about her long-term ex from high school and how he broke her heart, but she reassures him that she never loved him as much as he loved her. It was a phase, she says, but four-years isn't a phase in Jesse's eyes.

So when she gets the news about his death three years into college, she breaks down crying. She calls him when this happens, and he rushes over to let her sob into his shoulder as he rocks her in his lap.

"This is so fucking stupid, I don't know why I'm crying," she gives out a shuddery sigh, nuzzling deeper into his body, "it wasn't even, I don't know…"

He gets it; he doesn't push the subject and lets her just _feel_. It's in that moment when he vows to show her just how much he cares for her— just how much he loves her— every single day.

As long as she's lets him, he promises to keep her safe.

* * *

 _ **"Just because some people don't love you the way you love them, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have."**_

As expected, dating Beca takes time.

Loving Beca, however, does not. It only took them their second date for him to realize this, when he took her out for ice cream and they talked all night, too indulged in the conversation to notice that their dessert had melted. He's patient with her, fully understanding that she was still nursing relationships and fulfilling her own needs.

She doesn't tell him "I love you"s or give him random gifts like he does throughout their relationship, none of the typical, lovey-dovey stuff he's into. He's not expecting her to, but even at the darkest hours of the night, he can't help but feel a tad bit under-appreciated; in the loneliest of times, he wonders if she even _likes_ him.

But over time, he finds it in the way she tries her hardest to stay awake during movications, in the way she lets him listen to her private mixes, in the way she rolls her eyes affectionately at his nerdy quirks. It's in the way she likes to jump on him from behind and kiss him when he's least expecting it, and in the way she grumpily force-feeds him soup (and he _hates_ soup) when he's sick. It's in the way they argue and cry and break down.

It's the little things that make him realize that her love was bigger than the dramatized, goal-worthy "love" that he believed from movies; it's the little things that make him realize that _she loves him._

* * *

 _ **"Distance makes the heart grow fonder."**_

She doesn't realize she's in love with Jesse until three months after he's gone off to Los Angeles for film school.

She spends her days texting him, calling him, or videochatting him. It's easy- it's always been easy with him- to keep their relationship going, despite them being two thousand miles away from each other.

But she misses him much more than she anticipated. She finds herself playing The Breakfast Club in the background when she's alone, only to stop the film right before the final scene in order to avoid the pang in her chest that she feels just hearing their song. She declines going to the movies with the girls because Jesse's the only person who knows exactly how to keep her awake during the two hours of moving pictures. She, stupidly, can't even go to sleep without cuddling or wearing his Treble hoodie that smelled like him.

The realization– that she was undoubtedly, pathetically in love with the shaggy-haired nerd– comes to her when she least expects it— when she walks past an elderly couple wearing matching Star Wars t-shirts.

 _That'll be me and Jesse one day,_ she thinks to herself.

That's when it hits her.

* * *

 _ **"Together we are golden, everything will be alright; Together we are golden as long as there's you at my side."**_

The Trebles consistently finish second at every competition they enter with the Bellas. Jesse's not resentful; in fact, he thinks he's the luckiest guy ever to be witnessing the Bellas make history. His fellow Trebles, however, do not share the same thoughts as him, and eventually, the feeling of failure begins to invade his thoughts.

It's not until she finds him in his room, attempting to calm his panicked breaths, when she notices just how major the stress was eating at him.

She holds him in her lap, gently caressing his scalp, letting him ride out the waves of anxiety and uncertainty. _No, you're not a failure_ , she assures him, and it's the gentlest she's ever been with him.

"You're far from that, you're… You're the reason," she pauses, like her voice suddenly gave out, "the Bellas may have the trophies, but you're the reason why I'm still here— at Barden, with the girls and my dad and _you._ "

"And to me, that's not what a failure is- Far from it. _I owe you the world._ "

* * *

 _ **"His smile is contagious but so are his tears"**_

When Beca says yes to marrying him, Jesse smiles himself silly for an entire year after.

It wasn't a reluctant 'yes,' per se; it was more like the, "I love you but if we're going to get married, this shit better not be a big ordeal" kind of yes. With that in mind, they make sure that the wedding is a quiet and simple affair, with only their closest friends and family in attendance in the convenience of their backyard.

When Beca peeks out the window of the kitchen and sees his still-smiling face at the altar, she's never felt more sure about saying yes to anybody in the world. Cynthia-Rose has to tell her to stop smiling "like some lovesick little bitch" so that she can gloss Beca's lips one last time. She can't help it, no matter how hard she tries.

But then she sees his face- full of pure joy and shock and love- when she steps out of the back door, and it's like something catches in her throat and she can't breathe anymore. Jesse's already wiping the tears from his eyes, and, like some sort of fast-acting contagion, her eyes coat with tears and she can't see much of anything except for the lasting image of his lit-up face.

"I can't believe you've managed to pull this shit before I got to the fucking altar," she sniffs grudgingly, making her friends and families laugh in response.

He grins and kisses her cheek, tears still in his eyes, and soon enough, there's not a dry eye in attendance.


	13. table manners pt 1

**table manners**

pt. 1

* * *

Rating: T, later M

* * *

Beca's a rule-follower.

Well, at least most of the time she is. She'll fight for her cause, but she usually sticks to what the guidelines say. For example, her intro to philosophy professor doesn't count attendance, so she simply doesn't go. She's not breaking any rules, but she's not necessarily sticking to them either. Same goes with Aubrey's stupid Bella rules, except Beca could only take so much of her anal-retentiveness and strayed a little too far from some of them.

There was the whole semi-finals thing, which was an obvious bust. _Technically_ speaking, she didn't break Aubrey's rules. She sort of just sang— nevermind that it was a completely different song at a maybe inappropriate time— which was Aubrey's orders anyways. She stayed well-within limits. Well, in her head, at least.

And then, there's the whole "treble-boning" thing.

She didn't _technically_ bone a certain Treblemaker until after Aubrey's rule was lifted (AKA, until _after_ Aubrey graduated), so she wasn't really breaking them.

So yeah, Beca's pretty good at following the rules. She'll challenge them, sure, but usually she'll just find her way _around_ them.

* * *

When the Bellas start complaining about Jesse and Beca's "inappropriate behavior" (as quoted by Chloe), it's, ironically, over dinner with him.

"You two go at it like there's no tomorrow," Fat Amy whistles.

Jesse immediately blushes, and Beca's hot head grows about two sizes. "We do not!"

"Oh yes you do. I'm a little jealous, honestly. Even I can't keep up," Stacie sighs, and Beca stares at her in shock.

It's not exactly a little-known fact that Jesse and Beca liked to get it on in the bedroom. They were away from each other for the majority of the summer, and with them being a new couple, they were still in that honeymoon stage. All natural, as Beca likes to think of it.

Can you blame them? Jesse knew how to do amazing things with those hips, and that mouth? Beca's certainly not complaining.

"Yeah, I bet you two wouldn't last a week without having sex."

"Ha, more like a day."

"Enough!" Beca slams her fist on the table, glaring at every single girl seated. Jesse, meanwhile, is ghostly pale in the seat next to her. "We'll get out of your hair, okay? We can handle ourselves."

"Oh yeah? Prove it," Amy challenges. "I give you a week, tops."

"Two weeks, I've got a math test next week."

"A month. We can control ourselves for a month. Isn't that right, Jesse?"

She gives him a pointed look, to which he mouths "a month?" with wide eyes. He glances at the girls' anticipation, eventually succumbing to the pressure with a weak nod. "Er, yeah. Definitely doable."

"Can't do her," someone snickers from across the table, to which Amy snorts in modest agreement.

"Anyways," Chloe rolls her eyes, mostly at the commotion she's accidentally caused, "how will we know you're not getting it on at the Treble house or at the radio station?"

"Or the janitor's closet."

"Or the rehearsal space."

"Or—"

"Look, we have class and decency. No public domains."

"Bo—ring," Stacie yawns. Beca shoots another glare her way.

"What do we get out of this?"

"That sex isn't the core of a loving relationship—"

"Seriously?"

"Aw, come on. That's a load of shit," Fat Amy agrees, shrugging at Chloe's offended face. "I have a weekend pass to the Luxury Retreat, you can have that if you win. You can have all the massages, booze, and sex you can possibly have there. And they have really nice towels and mini soaps."

"Where the hell did you get a weekend pass to Luxury Retreat? Isn't that shit crazy expensive?"

"I've got connections," the Australian winks ominously.

"Deal. No sex for a month in exchange for that weekend pass."

"Beca, sweetie, do you need a few vibrators for the time being? I know where to get the _best_ ones," Stacie offers sympathetically.

Beca raises a cautionary brow. "Hold up, where in the rules does it state that he can't get me off?"

"And vice-versa," Jesse adds.

"Uh, implicitly, obvi. I don't think you'd want to risk the consequences."

"Are we really that bad?" Jesse quips warily. Beca pinches him for good measure. "All I'm saying is that I think we have a lot more self control than you girls think."

"And we'll prove it. Boom. Done. Now pass me the garlic sauce."

* * *

 **A/N-**

 **Short but it's enough to get you guys going, I hope! I won't give away the prompt quite yet, as I want it to be a surprise.**

 **Go ahead and take a stab at guessing what might happen next xx**


	14. table manners pt 2

**table manners**

pt. 2

 _WARNING: RATED-M._

* * *

The Bellas really only had one rule, which was no skin-on-skin touching below the belt. Stacie claims to have some sort of sixth sense when it comes to knowing if people have had sex in the past twenty four hours, so those were really their only guidelines, but they make Jesse and Beca swear on an oath of honesty. If the two lose the bet, the punishment was bathroom cleaning duty and the privilege of being the designated driver for the next month, and Jesse would be banned from coming over for the remaining period of time in which they last. So, if they only lasted a week, he would be banned for three weeks. Unfortunate rules, but they think they can handle it.

* * *

 **Day 3:**

It's 10:38 at night, and Beca's already bored with her dildo. Frankly, she wants Jesse, but with the bet still in place, she knows she can't. With Fat Amy gone for the weekend, it's making the situation a whole lot more difficult than she had anticipated. She plays with the toy in her hand, sprawled naked on her bed, pondering ideas on how exactly she was supposed to win this bet.

That's when she gets a brilliant idea.

To: Jesse

From: Beca

 **You up, nerd?**

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **Yeah, are you okay? Need something?**

She smirks deviously, snaps a picture of her breasts, full and pushed together, and sets the SnapChat timer for three seconds before sending it off. Her smirk turns into a full out grin when the symbol changes to "opened," and she eagerly waits for a reply.

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **BECA**

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **BECA WHY**

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **YOU DIDN'T EVEN GIVE ME ANY TIME TO SCREENSHOT THAT.**

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **BECA?**

To: Jesse

From: Beca

 **Yes?**

She immediately snaps a picture of herself, her thumb over her hardened nipple, and bites her lip gingerly before sending it off again, timed at three seconds again.

This time, Jesse manages to screenshot the snap. She can only imagine the pain on his face, and it only excites her.

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **Fuck, Becs... We're never gonna win this bet. Not if you keep this up.**

To: Jesse

From: Beca

 **Don't like it?**

She takes it a notch further and decides to get a video of herself. She skillfully uses one hand to record the video, with her other hand groping her breasts greedily, with her thumb pinching at the pink nub. She smirks at her phone, "If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so."

She sends the video boldly, waiting for his reply.

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **Holy shit.**

Clearly, he doesn't want her to stop, and frankly, she was enjoying this. She grabs her dildo and slides it into her, careful to capture the moment of her face on SnapChat. She whimpers at the feel and moves her fingers to her folds, moaning at the electric pulse going through her body as she rubbed her clit. The ten seconds are up, so she sends the video without much thought. She continues to rock against the toy, almost forgetting that just ten minutes earlier, it bored the hell out of her.

Surprisingly, he sends her a snap back, this one a video of his own.

"Fuck, Beca. You're such a tease, _fuck_ ," he growls lowly, his face dimly lit. She moans at the sound of his voice sounding so fucking sexy; she might as well come undone right then and there. The video ends with him pointing the phone southward, enough to see him grabbing his hard dick straining through his pants for a split second before it disappears entirely.

Now _she's_ the one in pain.

She started this game, she's going to end it. And they're gonna win that Luxury Retreat, dammit.

* * *

 **Day 7:**

Jesse ends up suspiciously missing three shifts at the radio station. There's nothing wrong with him as far as Beca knows- just that he's been pretty distant from her since the SnapChat fun. Understandable, but she still really wants to see her boyfriend. Plus, Jesse was totally taking advantage of her being the new station manager by not showing up to work whenever he feels like it.

"You're not allowed to do that, you know," she calls from the booth upon seeing his arrival. He peeks in, making sure she wasn't on air and/or actually angry, and waltzes in to kiss her.

"Sorry Becs. Been busy," he says, grabbing a seat and a crate of CDs to organize in the booth. "I'll make my hours up soon."

She studies him with a quizzical brow. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

She gives him a pointed stare. "I know you better than to miss three days of work. What's up?"

He looks away abashedly. "You'll think I'm pathetic."

"Spit it out, weirdo."

"I had a dream," he says slowly, looking at her for some sort of reaction.

"So did Martin Luther King Jr."

He shakes his head. "I had a dream... About you."

This definitely piques her interest. She quickly checks to see if the thirty-minutes of non-stop music was on air, then nestles her chin on top of her chair with her knees folded underneath her. "Tell me about it."

"Uh, well," he gulps, then squeezes his eyes shut. "We were here, in the radio station. You didn't have any clothes on. You did your hair."

"I did my hair?"

"Like... All wavy and soft. I remember pulling it, playing with it," he finally opens his eyes, breathes, and looks at Beca. "We broke a couple of rules."

"Go on," she urges, feeling her insides heat up a bit. "Tell me more."

"You were on the desk touching yourself. Like the SnapChats you sent me," he says lowly, and Beca swears she can see his eyes darken. "You pulled me over and you let me take over. Then you sucked me, and you let me fuck you."

"Luke said no sex on the desk," she chokes, already feeling her lady bits throb.

"I told you, we broke some rules. That wasn't even the best part," he groans, shutting his eyes once more. "It was so vivid. You flipped me over and you rode me right on that table. Cold and hard and fast."

"Fuck you," she blushes. "I'm embarrassed that that you having a sex dream about me turns me on this much. If we're going to win the bet, I'm going to have to kick you out of this booth _right now._ "

"See, this is why I couldn't come to work," he sighs in frustration. "Jesus Christ, it's only been a week. Can we really not control ourselves?"

"We _can_ and we _will_. So get out," she points him towards the door to the booth. "I'm going to end up masturbating on live radio and no one needs to hear that. Well, maybe except you, but I still need you to get out before I actually combust."

* * *

 **Day 16:**

Work is a little tense, especially during the shifts of just them, but it eventually dies down.

That is, until she decides to make work _fun_ again.

She comes into work early, getting her mixes done to put on the radio queue. Per usual, Jesse is perfectly late.

"Did you have a good day, Jesse?" She asks when he sets his things down in the booth.

He kisses her soundly before shaking his head somberly. "Not really. Benji took a few spills during practice, some of them were pretty scary. I had to assign him, er, less choreography and more singing."

She frowns. "Poor guy."

"Yeah, he's not that great in the dance department."

She laughs, feeling a little guilty. "Hey, he's trying. Gotta give him that."

"True," he smiles, exiting the booth. "What about you? How was your day?"

"Could be better," she says nonchalantly, eying him through the booth window. "I've been thinking..."

"About?"

She waits for him to sit at the desk, a stack of papers to scan in front of him, before tiptoeing out of the booth to sneak up behind him. "I've been thinking about the bet."

He jumps a bit when he sees her, but he relaxes quickly and lets her sit on his lap. "It's been on my mind, too, I'm not gonna lie," he admits.

Suddenly, she strips her shirt off, revealing her very naked breasts in front of him. His eyes immediately widen at the sight. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"The rule states no skin-to-skin contact below the belt. Emphasis on _below_ ," she hums suggestively. His throat seems to dry because he doesn't speak; all he does is stare at her breasts in awe. She lifts his shirt above his head, her breasts dangerously close to his face. She straddles his waist, leaning in to kiss him.

"Fuck, Beca," he croaks out between kisses, her breasts pushed against his chest. "What if someone shows up?"

"So?" she challenges.

He groans. "God, you're so fucking amazing."

She brings her chest to his face, letting him nuzzle the crevice between her breasts. He works his way to her nipple, gently biting at the hardened nub, with the other being played with in his hand. She moans, relishing in the feeling of his skin on hers after two weeks of absence.

His tongue works over her bud, slow and warm. She lets out a whimper when he lets go and goes to the other, her hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair as she guided his mouth along her breasts. Her hips grind into his, slowly at first, then faster, needier. He pulls away from her breasts to grasp the back of her neck, his lips crashing onto hers while his hands squeezed her ass and cheeks.

"Shit, Jesse," she breathes, feeling his dick twitch through the fabric of his jeans. She pumps him through the blue denim, unzipping his pants to give him a little more breathing room. His breath hitches at the feel of her fingers rubbing him through his underwear, the head of his cock already poking out.

"Beca," he warns, releasing her lips slowly. "Beca wait, _the rules_."

She was well aware of how physically close they were to fucking right then and there, but really, her mind was erasing all the logic out of it. All she feels is good and like her clit really needed to be touched. Like, now.

"No skin-to-skin contact," she stutters, hoping to god her clit would stop throbbing. "Touch me through my underwear, then. _Please_ ," she practically begs, her mouth already closing in on his once more.

Immediately, his hands unzip her pants and pushes them down. She retaliates by grinding onto his bulge, and they both gasp at the feeling.

"We are so cheating," he rasps, to which she grins wickedly. Their hips pound together rhythmically, with Jesse slyly reaching to rub her through the fabric of her lace underwear. "God, Beca, you're so wet."

"It happens," she means to say playfully, but then his finger manages to dig deep into her, her hips bucking frantically, and whatever tone she was meant to say that in turns into a moan.

She tries her best to please him through his underwear, but after much frustration, he takes his dick out and pumps himself. She watches in a daze, desperately wanting to touch him but it's her head that's telling her no- to _comply_. After short deliberation, she pushes herself off his lap and onto the desk. She shoves the stack of papers behind her and rids her jeans, then spreads her legs to rub herself in Jesse's plain view.

Not long after, he comes and eagerly helps her with her own orgasm by fingering her through the fabric and kissing the top of her breasts gently.

Their dry spell ends with not-so-dry sex, with Beca yet again getting away with the rules.


	15. table manners pt 3

**table manners**

pt. 3

 _WARNING: RATED-M._

* * *

 **Day 20:**

Beca and Jesse end up clearing their minds of sex. It's the Pax Romana of the month, but mostly it's due to the fact that Beca was on her period. Unlike most women, Beca wasn't a grumpy, cramping mess during her time of the month. She's pissed that her uterus is shedding, but she can handle it. Plus, period sex just wasn't her thing, so even though she was horny and wished she could alleviate that problem, she found it a lot easier to handle her sexual urges.

Apparently, this wasn't very entertaining to the Bellas.

"What the hell, you've slept over the past two days and you still haven't fucked? I don't understand how you two are actually winning this bet right now!" Stacie exclaims over breakfast, her mouth full of pancakes that Jesse had made for the house. "Say goodbye to that Luxury Retreat pass, Amy. They've passed the halfway point and they're doing _fine_."

Beca and Jesse just shrug. "Told you we have self control," Beca says matter-of-factly.

"I don't get it," Amy lets out an exasperated sigh. "I want to keep my pass."

"Shouldn't have offered it as the prize, then," Beca snarks back.

"C'mon, there's no way you two have lasted the past three weeks. What's your secret?" Stacie asks, genuinely interested. The brunette-turned-strawberry blonde rests her chin on the counter, staring up at Jesse and Beca in wonder.

"There is no secret."

Okay, Beca might be bending the truth a little bit. Truth is, they've spent a great deal of time watching each other masturbate, whether it was through Skype or SnapChat. They decided that watching each other in person might be dangerous, especially since the last time, Beca completely ignored her conscious in order to get herself off on that radio station desk.

"It's been super boring, seeing you two all civil and stuff," Stacie shrugs. "I expected the tension to be a lot more palpable."

"Maybe it's because they gave in," Chloe suggests, narrowing her eyes at the couple.

"Nuh-uh. I have a sixth sense, remember? I would've sensed it," Stacie objects, much to Beca's relief. It's not like they actually fucked, but still. Mythical or not, Beca's glad that Stacie's sixth sense doesn't include practically-fucking.

"I can assure you girls that we have not had sex in the past month," Jesse smiles cheekily. "We have great self control."

* * *

 **Day 25:**

When a mysterious package comes to Jesse's room, with a note attached that read "GOOD LUCK" in curly font, he brings it into his room, unsure of what to expect. He dumps the gift bag's contents onto his bed, his eyes widening at his finding.

In front of him lay Beca's vibrator.

* * *

 **Day 28:**

With the end of Pax Romana, comes the start of wartime.

Beca has no idea where her vibrator is, and she's freaking the fuck out.

She keeps her stuff well hidden, and locked, in the Bella house; there is no way someone would steal it. Besides, that's sick.

She searches everywhere for the purple toy, but to no avail. She wasn't even horny anymore, but she needed to blow some steam. Now she has to buy a new one.

Annoying. They don't come cheap.

She grabs a towel and her bikini and heads to the Treble house to use their jacuzzi. The boys didn't really mind, as long as she wasn't booting them out. She knows that the Trebles were at practice, so she would have the house to herself. It's the best stress reliever on campus.

(Besides Jesse. And her missing vibrator.)

"Anyone home?" She calls into the house just in case, before stripping off her clothes and into her bikini. The jets were still on– they didn't find any use in turning them off during the summer- and the water was at the perfect temperature. She turns the air conditioning on and relaxes into the tub, sighing in content at the jets hitting her back. She lays on her stomach and rests her chin on the edge of the tub, making sure her hands were dry to scroll her phone with. She opens SnapChat and watches a snap that Jesse had sent her a couple minutes ago. The boys were goofing off, per usual, and Jesse was having none of it. The caption to the video said "can I leave?" with a skull emoji.

She laughs and sends him a picture of her, making sure her boobs looked just right, and captions it, "Well, if you want to."

She doesn't get a response until two minutes after he views it. The camera is pointed to the boys again, all gearing up to go to the gym, captioned, "Is that our jacuzzi?"

"Yes" is all she snaps him, this time a picture of her making a silly face.

Instead of getting a snap back, she gets a text from him.

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **Do you think they'd notice if I skipped cardio?**

To: Jesse

From: Beca

 **Tell them you have an appointment**

To: Beca

From: Jesse

 **I'm just gonna put Benji in charge of them for the next hour. I wanna join u**

To: Jesse

From: Beca

 **You better hurry up**

Jesse shows up five minutes later, already shirtless and panting hard.

"Hey, you got your cardio," she muses, scooting over to make room for him by the time he's changed into his swim trunks. Phone aside, she climbs onto Jesse's back, massaging the knots in his back. She plants a sweet kiss onto his cheek, pressing her thumbs deeper into his back.

"How was practice?"

"Not very productive," he sighs, a mix of content and frustration. "What about you?"

"Well, if you must know, I lost my vibrator. So." She swears she feels his muscles tense right back up again, but she chooses to ignore it. "I mean, we only have two days left. I think I can handle it, but I'm still pissed. It was an expensive model."

"Er, uh, yeah. Hmm, I can get you a new one," he says, flustered. He turns away to face her, effortlessly lifting her waist in his hands so that she was sitting on the bench before him.

She brightens at the offer. "You're serious?"

He hides his nerves by giving her an affirming kiss, and eventually, he forgets all about the vibrator. His hands wander up her sides and roam over her bikini top, nudging the fabric underneath his thumbs. He rubs her nipples slowly as she pushes her breasts forward, making it harder for him to maintain his lips on hers. She lets him tear the top off her, freeing her aching breasts. His lips travel from hers to her neck, one hand groping her breast greedily, with the other already traveling to her lady bits.

"Damn it, Jesse," she breathes in his ear, her abdomen tensing when his hand stops right at the waistband of her bikini bottoms. "Two. More. Days."

"I know, and we can make them count," he growls huskily into her ear. He takes her hips and places her onto the edge of the jacuzzi so that his head was level with her breasts. He takes a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over her hardened nub, making her moan in surprise. His hands go to her thighs, gently caressing them before slowly making their way over her bikini bottoms, right where her clit was. The pads of his thumbs presses gingerly over the fabric, teasing her through the water–soaked material.

"Will you hurry up?" Beca whines, pulling his head away from her nipple to look him directly in the eye. He smirks smugly and delves his thumbs into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I swear to God, Jesse, these are new and if you rip a fucking hole I'm gonna–" she gasps sharply when she feels him speed up against her clit, her legs haphazardly wrapping around his waist. Her hands grip the edge of the tub, her head tipping back as he continues pushing at her through the fabric.

"Baby, I don't know what you want," he hisses into her neck. "Do you want me to make you come?"

"Yes," she whimpers when he stops abruptly. "I want you to make me come and I want to win the bet."

"I think we can have that arranged," he smirks knowingly. He climbs out of the tub, the water dripping from his body, and it makes Beca dizzy. He lifts her from the edge and kisses her firmly, while she instinctively clings to his waist with her legs. She pulls at the little hairs at the back of his neck, her nails drawing up and down the length of it. He groans when she delves her tongue into his mouth, his legs, still dripping with water, already running blindly towards his room. Her wet bottom hits his mattress as he lowers her back, guiding her with his tongue. She pulls at the waistband of his soaking swim trunks, freeing his erection from its confines, and throwing the trunks to the floor.

She pulls away for a second, admiring his length with her eyes and not her hands. "If we're going to win, I need you to cover up. As much as I'd love to return the favor and make you come the way I want you to, I think it's safer that way. Plus," she begins, licking her lips suggestively. "I'll make it up to you as much as you want at the Luxury Retreat."

He nods wordlessly, his throat too dry to formulate a proper response. He pulls on a dry pair of boxers, wincing as the blood continued to rush to his hardened dick, before spotting the gift bag from the other day. "Babe, you know how you lost your vibrator?"

When he turns to see her response, she's already touching herself, without her bikini bottoms on. He looks away momentarily, his mind (and dick) numbing at the view. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the lost vibrator, hides it behind him, and goes back to his bed, watching as his girlfriend entertained herself. Her teeth clamped down on her lip as she explored herself, whimpering as she slid two fingers inside of her and a thumb rubbing against her clit.

He watches, mesmerized. "I thought we agreed on not masturbating in person," he chokes, his hand already reaching for his member.

"Mhm," she hums, stuck in her own little world.

Jesse groans at the sight, suddenly remembering the vibrator at his back. "You're breaking the rules, Bec."

"What are you going to do about it?" she challenges, still dazed.

He pulls out the vibrator and inspects it, ignoring the shock on her face. "Dude, that's _mine_. _You're_ the one who stole it? Hand it over."

"I didn't steal it. It came to me as a gift," he chuckles darkly. "I think we should make use out of it. As a punishment."

Whatever defensive feelings she had suddenly flies out the window and is replaced with excited curiosity. "Oh?"

He nods, fiddling with the settings of the toy before making his way to her naked form. "You want me to make you come?"

She bites her lip eagerly, letting him adjust her legs so that they were spread right in front of him. Her breathing gets shallower and shallower as he points the toy, vibrating on the highest setting, towards her opening.

"Jesse," she whimpers, feeling the vibrations just a few centimeters away. Suddenly, he slams the device into her wetness to its full length, making her nearly scream in met anticipation. He circles it around inside her, the vibrations coming off strong in his hand.

He's never been in this kind of role where she was completely submissive to him. Knowing she was willing to submit to him made his ego grow about ten times, and seeing her squirming in pleasure has never not made him feel extremely proud of himself. Despite the probably permanent erection in his pants.

He slowly pulls the vibrator out and pushes it back in at an even slower pace, making her legs clench unbelievably tight around his frame. The heels of her feet dig into his ass as he continues going at it. She raises herself off the bed to kiss him, her breasts pressed against his chest and her arms thrown lazily around his neck as she bucked against the vibrator.

He gradually increases the speed of his thrusts, one hand gripping her hipbone in an attempt to get her to stop grinding against it. He loves the way she looks right now– her hair falling out of her bun, mouth at the crook of his neck, her breaths and moans heavy and quick and loud against his skin. He felt her abdomen clench in anticipation when he pumped inside her, pushing the last inch of the toy into her G-spot, one last time before she succumbed to her orgasm, her legs quivering.

* * *

 **A/N-**

 **Two more days of the bet = one last part to this little series. I'm very pleased that you're all enjoying it so far xx**

 **What'd you guys think? Should I be sent to a nun convent? Dominatrix school? More or less? Ask and maybe ye shall receive- It _is_ the season of giving, after all (Just ask Mr. Swanson over here, ha!).**


End file.
